Invisibly Jaded
by Quatreastrophe
Summary: Story taken up by LightningHunter. See ch9 for more info. Everyone believes Harry’s twin vanquished Voldemort. As a small child, Harry believes he is unworthy, unwanted, and unneeded...but is he? At 16, after years away from home, not by a long shot!
1. Chapter 1

**Invisibly Jaded  
by: Quatreastrophe**

**IMPORTANT NOTE: This story, as written by me, has been discontinued, but has been taken up by another author known as LightningHunter. You can see the note I left in "chapter 9" for a bit more information, or you can go straight to the new story (links are in my profile).**

Disclaimer: Harry Potter is property of J.K. Rowling, not me.

The large antique grandfather clock struck eleven pm, sounding eleven long notes to mark the hour. The soft ticking resumed as the last echo faded, and the pendulum continued on its endless path, back and forth, back and forth. All else was silent in the house at that moment. No snoring, no rustling of sheets, no whimpering from nightmares. Nothing. It was as if sound itself was warning them. The calm before the storm.

Outside the house, loud cracks broke the silence as several dark cloaked figures appeared literally out of thin air. A strong autumn breeze caused the uniforms to billow. The last figure finally appeared, wearing a large hood instead of the normal white mask of death eaters. A cruel grin could be spotted from beneath the shadows of his hood, making the form appear even more frightening. He spoke to his followers with a harsh, yet glee filled voice.

"Tonight, my loyal servants, is the end. The end of opposition. After tonight, no one will be able to stand in my way. No one! The muggle-loving fool Dumbledore doesn't have a chance against my power! After tonight, my reign will be supreme…" The figure trailed off as he immersed his imagination in his daydream for a moment. "But tonight, we kill the Potters." He reached one hand up and pulled back his hood. The face of a man that looked to have once been handsome was revealed. It was the face of the feared Dark Lord Voldemort.

As soon as the Death Eaters crossed the property line, one of the wards went off and a loud shrieking noise reverberated throughout the house, waking its four residents.

James and Lily Potter jumped from their bed, knowing immediately what the trigger had been. Peter betrayed them, and now the death eaters were coming to hunt them down. They grabbed their own wand from the nightstand nearest their side of the bed, and rushed out of the bedroom. Their swift descent down the stairs ended when they spotted the attackers. Colors from various curses flew across the dining room as the married couple, in only their sleepwear, battled the intruders. It was a surprisingly small group- only six. In the midst of chaos, neither James nor Lily saw the tall hooded man escape the room and head deeper into the house.

Voldemort finally found the right door, and opened it to reveal his prey. From within a single shared crib, two nearly identical boys stared at him- one from piercing emerald eyes and the other from deep brown eyes. Black hair that already showed tendencies of being exactly like their father's lay tousled on the heads of the fifteen month old twins- the Potter twins that had plagued his memory for over a year now. One of them was apparently destined to be his undoing. So, before they had a chance to grow powerful enough that one would destroy him, he would destroy the child. The problem was, he didn't know which one. In fact it may not be either of these boys. He made a mental note to take care of the Longbottom boy soon after this mission was completed. There was no sense in taking a chance. He would kill them all.

Leveling his wand, he prepared to take aim. The screams and shouts of the battle in another part of the house seemed to fade as he pointed his wand at the huddled forms of the boys. He pulled his arm back as if preparing for a pitch, and then flung his arm forward, screaming two of the most feared words known to wizards. "_AVADA KEDAVRA!_"

He watched in glee, as time seemed to slow down. A bright burst of green flew from his wand and headed directly at the young twins. The fatal curse's velocity increased as it traveled toward its innocent victims. It struck, and for an instant, time seemed to have actually stopped completely.

One of the boys, the boy on the right, pushed his twin down, protecting him with his body. The green curse touched his head, searing a lightning-bolt shaped cut on his forehead. The bleeding cut seemed to spark with energy, and the babe, clearly alive, looked straight at his intended killer. Not even a second later, a pulse flung itself from the bleeding wound. The killing curse was turned back on its caster, whose face momentarily froze in surprise and fear, before the spirit was ejected from the body, and the body crumbled and disappeared into ashes. The pulse, along with the remnants of the failed killing curse, caused the room to begin to deteriorate in stability. Chunks of the ceiling rained down on the room, and a fire started on the wall where part of the rebounded curse had struck. The boy on the right was exhausted, and fell unconscious in the crib as the new wound continued to bleed. The other pulled himself from under the body, only to deeply scrape the skin off the palm of his hand on some rubble, before crying himself to sleep. The unconscious twins lay still, just waiting for someone to save them.

111

_"Lost a lot of blood…both…be ok though…dark magic…palm on this one!…definitely radiates some magic…must have…wandless!"_

A five-year-old Harry Potter sleepily shook himself awake, wondering at the strange dream he had seen many times. He didn't know what it meant, but he thought it might have been a memory from the hospital when he was only a little over a year old. It was probably a few snatches of conversation he'd heard at St. Mungos after his twin brother Hayden had somehow gotten rid of the Dark Lord Voldemort. He also often experienced a dream with a yelling voice, though he couldn't make out what it said, and then a bright green flash.

Harry climbed down from the bed and left his room. He briefly looked at the door across the hallway, which belonged to his revered brother. The silence revealed that his brother was already up and somewhere else in the house. The door was decorated in all kinds of papers taped to it, with scribbles and wiggly letters spelling out 'Hayden' that his brother had seen fit to decorate his door with. He looked back at his own blank door and gave an odd sort of smile. He could have decorated it if he really wanted to, but he didn't want to draw any attention to himself. Harry had figured out that sometimes, it was best to be invisible. He always hated it when they were out in public and someone mistook him for Hayden. The disappointed and sometimes disproving gazes he received when they realized he was only Harry, not the famous and great Hayden, haunted him, made him feel inadequate and that he should have done more when Voldemort attacked them. Not that he could even remember what happened, having only been fifteen months old at the time.

111

James Potter walked down the steps toward the wonderful smells of breakfast his wife was cooking. As he did frequently, he admired the framed newspapers that lined the staircase hallway.

**THE BOY-WHO-LIVED!  
****Hayden Potter saves us all!**

**YOU-KNOW-WHO DEFEATED!  
****The true story of the fated night**

There were dozens more papers dictating the events when Voldemort was defeated at the hands of his son...well, defeated at the _hand_ of his son. Hayden was found with deep, bloody cut marks on his right hand. Investigators had finally figured that he used some form of powerful wandless magic, and the exit through the hand of the undeveloped body caused the bleeding wound. His other boy, Harry, only had an odd shaped cut on his head. The investigators passed it off as an injury due to falling debris, since Hayden had also received a slight bruise on his head from a chunk of plaster.

"Morning, Daddy!"

James had wandered into the kitchen and was greeted by the boy he had just been thinking about. "Well hello there, birthday boy!" He greeted as he lifted the child into his arms and held him. "Ready for your big day? Five is a _very_ important year, you know."

Hayden first responded with a great smile that threatened to split his face in two. "Yup! Mum says we're gonna have cake, and ice cream, and balloons, and- and presents! An' a big party too, with lots of peoples, like Moony and Padfootie!"

"Later, Hayden dear. Why don't you sit back down and finish your breakfast first?" Lily spoke up from the table where she was trying to feed their daughter, two-year-old Oriana. Hayden started squirming in his father's arms, before James finally let him loose and set him back down on the ground.

The hinges on the kitchen door squeaked quietly as the last Potter entered, trying to be as discreet as possible. He didn't want to do anything that could ruin or interrupt Hayden's birthday. It was his too, but that didn't matter. Harry knew he wasn't the important one, so it was ok if he just got a normal birthday party with the normal amount of gifts from his parents and their friends. He neither needed, nor wanted the load of presents and candy that witches and wizards from all over would send his brother. All he had asked for was a snitch to play with, and maybe a broom as well. It didn't even have to be a fancy broom, just something he could fly about twenty feet above the ground on, as that was all he and Hayden were allowed to do until they were older, or accompanied by and experienced flyer. Hayden had asked for a quaffle, as he was more inclined to being a chaser when it came to Quidditch.

Harry grabbed a few slices of dry toast and a glass of apple juice and retreated back to his room to pass the hours until the party away. He awkwardly shifted the glass into the crook of his other elbow, so he could twist the doorknob and push the door to his room open. He placed the food on the nightstand, and moved his pillows against the headboard of the bed. Harry grabbed his book from the side of the bed and propped himself against the pillows as he read the large print, occasionally taking a bite of toast or a sip of juice.

A few hours later, Harry shut the book. He had just finished it, and decided it was time to go down to the party, since he'd started hearing laughter and lively chatter start up a while ago. When he reached the main floor, he looked around in awe. A few banners and posters were hung announcing 'Happy Birthday'. Streamers and balloons of red and gold were attached all over the place, and a huge cake rested to the side of the room, displaying a simple 'Happy 5th Birthday!' in dark red icing.

As Harry marveled at all the decorations, a man he didn't know came up to him. "Well hello there, Hay-rry." The man caught site of the identifying emerald eyes and lightning bolt scar and corrected himself. The portly man with flyaway gray hair and a very prominent bald spot blinked a few times, but kept the straight face he had reverted to after realizing the boy was Harry, and remained silent. He averted his eyes uncomfortably, and caught site of Harry's brother in the process. A smile appeared on his face, and he strutted across the room to where Hayden was basking in the spotlight. Harry cast his eyes down and proceeded to walk to a dark corner hoping no one else mistook him for Hayden.

Contrary to what some might think, Harry was not jealous of his twin at all. Not one tiny bit. Hayden was actually pretty nice, and they often played together for long hours. Hayden could have the fame. He could have the attention. He could have the gifts people bought him. He could have whatever, as long as Harry knew his parents cared for him as well, and didn't forget about him. Harry did want a snitch though.

Harry continued to watch people from his corner. He occasionally caught site of Hayden showing witches and wizards who asked to see it, his famous scar. It was a relatively thick white scar that covered a good portion of his right palm in a very rough circular shape. Harry often thought that it must have been pretty painful to get all that skin peeled away. Harry had been told he was really lucky to get away with only the zigzag cut on his forehead.

111

Since it was a pretty warm day, being July 31, the party eventually migrated outside. Here, Harry took refuge in the shade under a long decorative tablecloth. He was content for the time being, to simply watch people's shoes and robe hems as different groups chatted around the punch bowl located on the table above him.

"--yeah, this is a great party. Hayden Potter even shook my hand! I can't wait to tell the guys at work that _I_ got to not only meet, but actually touch the boy-who-lived's scar! Manny'll be so jealous-- he's wanted to meet the kid for ages! Oh, and Marie? I can't wait to see her reaction!"

"Same here Al. I think she's already got her wedding dress picked out! For the love of Merlin, the kid's only five! She'll be forty by the time he's old enough to marry!"

"Yep, she's an odd one alright."

"Hey, has anyone seen the other Potter boy by chance? Ehh…what's his name…Harry?" A new person spoke up, having just walked over to the group. "I got a little something for him too, but all I could find was Hayden's present pile."

"Er, nope. Haven't seen 'im, mate. Ask the parents—they're over by the cake table with Hayden Potter."

Harry crawled forward a little to get a look at the man who had actually brought him a present. He couldn't see the man's face though, just his dark blue robe and a bag of various treats. Harry smiled, and then suddenly started coughing as a cloud of pipe smoke drifted over to his table.

"What the-" The candy-bearing man spoke up again.

Try as he might, Harry could not stop coughing. The tablecloth was lifted and the group of men peered under it. Two of the men stood up quickly and looked across the yard to verify that Hayden was still there, and then went back to observing Harry.

"Ah, you must be Harry!" The man with the candy said. He reached an arm under the table and helped Harry out. He gave Harry the bag of candy, which was tied at the top with glittery ribbons. Harry finally quit coughing as a breeze blew the smoke away at last. "Happy birthday, kid!"

Harry smiled at the candy and then up at the man. Someone else actually remembered him! They remembered it was his birthday too!

"Hey, do you think you could introduce me to that brother of yours?" The man asked.

The question was asked innocently enough, but Harry's smile immediately fell as he caught on. He was being _used_! In a swift motion he gave the candy bag back to the man. "I'm not allowed to take candy from strangers." He waited a beat. "Hayden's over there." Harry said in a dull tone as he pointed to where his brother and parents had been for the past half-hour.

As the man's eyes instinctively followed the direction Harry's finger was pointing, Harry slipped away. With his back to the group of men, he bit his lip and began to worry it with his teeth. His eyes brimmed with salty tears as he mentally berated himself for allowing his hopes to rise for those brief few seconds. These people didn't care. No one cared. He was Harry. Just Harry. A nobody.

111

A shrill whistle carried across the yard, and everyone's attention was drawn to Lily Potter as she removed her fingers from her lips and smiled in satisfaction.

James clapped once, and then began speaking. "Ok everyone, its present time! If you could please gather 'round…yes, thank you."

Upon hearing the announcement, Harry sighed. He withdrew from the oh-so-very engaging task of pulling grass from the lawn and peeling it into strips, and walked to the cake table to join the rest of his family and open his share of presents. He still hoped he got a snitch…he _really_ hoped.

"Now that we're all set, Sirius? Remus? If you will, then let's get started!"

Sirius took a deep bow and then proceeded to reach for the first present. His blue eyes sparkled brightly, unlike the haunted look they had taken for a while four years ago. At the attack on their house, James and Lily had suffered injuries from the Death Eaters. While they were recuperating in the hospital, he had been accused of betraying them and murdering the muggles when he confronted Pettigrew. With all the confusion, it had taken a week for James and Lily to receive news of his situation. He had been let out of the prison straight after they testified to his innocence, and a search was started for the traitorous Peter Pettigrew. For a few months after that incident, he hadn't been the happiest person, though. Dementors were certainly not nice.

Sirius removed a present from the top of the pile. "Aaaaand, here's one for…Hayden!" He placed the colorfully wrapped box in front of the five-year-old.

Sirius and Remus took turns passing presents over. Hayden….Hayden…Hayden…Hayden…Hayden. Harry didn't care. The presents on top were just the ones from all these guests, many of which were attending just for a chance to get to meet the boy-who-lived. The presents from his family and the people he knew would be on the bottom, since they had been placed before all the guests arrived. Hayden…Hayden…Hayden… "Harry!" He looked up as a present was placed in from of him. Unwrapping the package with the precision of a surgeon (which caused Sirius to roll his eyes at the slow and careful process), Harry got to the gift. There was a chocolate frog package taped to the sides of an envelope. Upon opening the envelope, he discovered a gift certificate for a muggle bookshop. Harry smiled happily at the audience, and saw Remus nod his head in acknowledgement. Harry couldn't wait to get the next book in the children's fiction series, _Encyclopedia Brown._ He always loved trying to solve the mystery before the end of each tale.

Hayden…Hayden…Hayden…Hayden.

Harry kept searching the dwindling pile with his eyes, looking for a small package that might contain his snitch. He didn't mind not getting a new broom; the old ones in the garden shed would work fine. He had to get the snitch, right? It wasn't that expensive, and he _had_ only asked for two things. So far, besides the certificate from Remus, Harry had received a new pack of cards for exploding snap, some wizarding candy, and a green robe. Hayden, on the other hand, had received pretty much all a child could dream of, due to the hero-worshipping guests.

Hayden…Hayden…Hayden… "Oh! This is a big one Hayden! I wonder what it could be?" Sirius said with a knowing look in his eyes. Removal of the wrapping paper revealed a dark brown chest. It was fairly obvious what it contained.

"Quidditch!" His brother yelled out happily as he flung the lid open to see the brand new set of game balls. The struggling bludger appeared to be made out of some type of foam-like material, but other than that, all seemed normal.

There was even a tiny golden snitch in there. Surely this present was meant for both brothers. Surely they hadn't forgotten how much Harry enjoyed the game, especially the seeking part. Surely they hadn't…

Harry looked down at the table and saw the tag stuck to a piece of the wrapping paper Hayden had just torn off.

TO: HAYDEN POTTER

Not Hayden _and_ Harry, not the Potter brothers, not even the Potter twins. _Hayden._

Harry flipped the tag over, just to be sure. The other side was blank. He looked over to the table, hoping to see the small box he'd been looking for. The table was empty. The Quidditch set to Hayden had been the last present.

Harry was fine though. After all, Hayden was the boy-who-lived. Harry was still just Harry. Just Harry. He repeated the mantra over and over again in his head. Just Harry, just Harry, just…

He had gotten a few presents, and some people didn't get any at all! He lived in a nice house, and even had a nice room to himself. He got food everyday. Some people didn't live in very nice places, and often barely had enough money for food. He had plenty, compared to some people, so he should just quit being so selfish. So what if he had only asked for two things, yet got neither? So what if Hayden got an insane amount of gifts, including one he wanted. One he _really_ wanted. Harry really _was_ fine, though. Perfectly fine. Absolutely fine. He wasn't upset in the slightest. Nope, not one little bit. Just fine.

A glass shattered nearby.

So maybe he was a little upset. Ok, maybe he was a lot upset. Maybe…maybe he was…

Harry heard his sister giggle happily from her stroller as she, and everyone else, watched Hayden practice releasing the snitch and catching it as fast as he could. Tears sprang to his eyes for the second time that day. He started to back away, but nobody noticed. As soon as he was a good distance away from the party, he began to walk quicker, until he reached the woods behind their house. Once he hit the edge of the woods, he ran. Harry went as fast as his little legs could carry him, his vision gradually becoming obscured by the tears that were filling his eyes. Deeper and deeper he ran, until his blurry vision and frantic running caused him to stumble on a protruding tree root. He fell to the ground and skinned his elbow on a rock. The tears spilled over, and Harry finally gave in and sobbed. He could only blame himself for this.

He was…forgotten.

* * *

Ok, this was just a little idea for another alteration of the whole 'Potter twin' thing. I had it runnin' around in my head for a while, typed it up, and finally decided to post it and see if anyone was interested. Soooo...Please review! (No flames though! I couldn't bear that on the first few chapters!)

Thanks for reading!


	2. Chapter 2

Invisibly Jaded

Disclaimer: Not mine.

As the half-decade old boy cried his heart out, wind began to swirl around. The tree branches swayed, whispering to each other in their own secret language. Dead leaves rustled as they smacked into each other and the other foliage in the forest. There was an almost inaudible dripping sound as drops of blood pooled at Harry's skinned elbow, before becoming heavy enough that they fell to the ground.

Harry sobbing finally quieted down and the woods were nearly silent. He swiped his arm across his eyes to clear the tears, and sniffed one last time. A slight breeze caused a few of the fallen leaves to sway again. Harry picked up a dry leaf and held it to the cut on his elbow to stop the bleeding. His breathing was still a little irregular, but slowly returned to normal. Harry's emotional breakdown over, he was left with a rather large problem.

What now?

He should probably go back home. That would be the best idea after all. Then again, he _should_ go back, but that didn't mean he had to…did it?

He heard noises coming from the party, which seemed to be in full swing again, though there were some decidedly odd noises. No doubt it was from Hayden's new broom, the _Zap 3000_-- top rated broom for children according to Parenting Magical Children magazine. It had all the latest and greatest safety charms, plus, whenever you flew it, the broom would make sounds depending on what you set it as. There were even sounds from some muggle things like that 'airplant' and the 'rocker ship', whatever those were.

Harry hugged his knees to his body. Didn't anyone notice he was missing? Then again, no one seemed to missed him at the party earlier-- no one but that man who was trying to get his fifteen minutes of fame by using him to get to Hayden, anyways.

Harry waited another hour, but there were no signs of anyone searching for him. He could hear the 'oohs' and 'aahs' as Hayden continued to ride his new broom, most likely trying out his new Quidditch equipment as well. The sun was beginning to set and the sky looked like it was ablaze from the orange and red tones it threw on the clouds. The broom sounds eventually stopped and he heard the sounds of the guests' apparating out, so the party must have ended. Some birthday this had turned out to be.

* * *

Soon enough, there were no more sounds at all. Harry shivered in the rapidly cooling night air. Just as he was contemplating finding shelter in the woods for the night, a piercing scream rang out that could only be his mother's. He perked up immediately. They must have realized he was missing after all! Granted, it took them long enough, but still, at least they noticed. Harry began running back to his home, making it back in about ten minutes. Looking around, he saw nobody outside, which was rather curious. He walked to the back door where there was a lamp lit, and raised his fist to knock. He hesitated for a moment, and then timidly knocked on the door. The voices he'd heard inside ceased and he heard some shuffling of chairs and shoes. The lock on the door clicked open and Harry smiled. 

Harry wasn't sure whether he'd be yelled at for running off, or greeted with joy that he was back. What he wasn't expecting was to be greeted with the dangerous end of a wand straight in his face. He stated straight at the tip, getting a little cross-eyed in the process. Suddenly, the wand dropped down and the door opened wide enough for him to get through.

"Oh, it's just you." James sighed in relief, as if he had been worried about someone attacking.

Harry hadn't been expecting that either. It wasn't exactly the kind of thing you'd say to your supposedly missing child when they returned.

Upon entering the kitchen, he saw an eccentrically dressed old man with a long silver beard and hair and half-moon classes sitting at the table; one Albus Dumbledore. Harry grabbed a box of dry cereal to snack on, since he hadn't eaten since his sparse breakfast. He saw Hayden sitting on the floor, scribbling in his new coloring book. Without another seconds notice, Harry was shooed out of the kitchen and told to go to bed by his parents.

"But Hayden's-"

"We have something important to discuss with Hayden. Please go to bed." Lily sounded very stressed.

Harry started reaching for his small pile of presents, but was stopped by his mother again.

"Harry, please." There was a definite note of desperation in her voice. "This is important!"

Harry looked back to where Hayden was still happily coloring. What could be so important? Certainly they should have a discussion with Hayden about staying inside the lines…and that lions generally weren't pink and green, but that couldn't have been it. He left the kitchen without his presents or box of cereal. Harry closed the door all the way, but then lie down and put his ear by the crack under the door. After a minute of listening to tea being served and the adults settling around the table, the talking began.

"Now James, Lily, are you _sure_ you heard him…?"

'Yes!" Lily yelled in a frantic sounding voice. "It was one of the creepiest things I've ever heard! Even more so because it came from my son!"

"I have a theory. Here, you can let Hayden hear now."

Harry figured they must have used a temporary charm to keep Hayden from hearing that brief part of the conversation. He heard a few rapid steps that must've been his brother joining the three adults at the table.

"Now Hayden," Dumbledore began. "What can you tell us about earlier?"

"Well, I got off my broom and everybody was leaving. I got bored, 'cause I didn't have nobody to talk to, but then the nice snakie askeded for some food, so I talked to it!"

"You're sure you understood exactly what it was saying to you?" James asked.

"Yup!"

"My boy," Dumbledore started again. "Parseltongue-- the ability to speak in the snake language-- is a very rare gift. Voldemort could speak it, and it is my belief that when Voldemort's curse failed, he accidentally transferred some of _his_ power…to _you_."

There were two gasps, most likely his parents.

"Albus…no! No, it can't be! I- I don't, he can't…no!" Lily finally wailed and began to cry.

Harry couldn't figure out what they were talking about. He could talk to snakes too! Only one of them had been hit by the killing curse, and everyone knew it was Hayden. If they both could talk to snakes, shouldn't it have been genetic?

Harry pondered this as his mother cried, and finally decided to just go in and tell them they were wrong. When he opened the door, the first thing he saw was Hayden, staring at his parents curiously. James had his arms around the weeping form of his mother, but he looked on the verge of tears himself.

"Um, 'scuse me, but-"

"Harry!" His dad yelled in surprise.

"Voldem-"

"You're supposed-"

"-give hi-"

"-in bed!"

"I can speak-"

"-discussion about-"

"-snakes!" Harry finished.

Having not heard what Harry said completely, James misinterpreted. "Harry," he said calmly. "We would appreciate it if you didn't eves drop in the future. We are trying to have an important discussion, and we need to talk to your brother, not you."

Not you…

The phrase rang in his head, blocking out everything else. They never even gave him a chance! There was another reason that he and Hayden could talk to snakes, he just knew it! But he didn't get to tell them! Harry knew his parents were stressed, and honestly, who wouldn't be? He knew all about the belief about snakes and dark wizards. He was their son though! It was his birthday! He had tried to be good, really he had. He didn't complain, and tried to stay out of the way! What had gone wrong?

James spoke again. "I don't think you understand, Harry. Your brother is known as the boy-who-lived, and is important to a lot of people. Right now, we don't need you to be here."

Don't need you…

Harry's five-year-old mind was trying to process what his parents were saying. The one time he had tried to assert himself, he was brushed off. He had been right in his earlier assumption. He _was_ forgotten. His parents _did _care about Hayden more.

Harry ran out of the room as fast as he could and flew up the stairs. He ran into his room and shut the door behind him. He had to get away. This was too much for him! A kid could only take so much! He had to go somewhere—anywhere, as long it was far away from here! Isolation, he could handle, but not this! What had just occurred may not have been that big of a deal, but it was the straw that broke the camel's back. Everything that had built up for the past four years came crashing down on him. All the times he didn't measure up to Hayden, all the inequalities he'd suffered, all those people expecting him to be something he was not…and most of all the hatred he felt for himself, and the knowledge that he'd never be good enough. He was just Harry. Only Harry.

Harry screwed his eyes shut tight and slid down the back of the door. Anywhere. He needed to be anywhere but here. He wanted to be anywhere else.

Harry felt the odd sensation one had just before performing accidental magic. He could feel the power building up inside of him, just waiting to be released. He needed to leave, and that's just what his magic did. With a 'crack' that was many times louder than normal apparition, Harry disappeared from the room. His mind had not been set on a destination, and therefore, Harry had no idea where he was going.

Harry felt like an icy mist was surrounding his body. After a few seconds, Harry slammed against the ground. Once he looked around, he found himself staring in awe at one of the most gorgeous landscapes he'd ever been witness to.

A broad mountain range spanned the horizon in front of him, with verdant bases sweeping up into bluish-gray peaks veiled in the white haze of thin clouds. Surrounding the mountains were rolling green hills and a forest full of plant and animal life. He turned all the way around and was greeted by a view of the ocean and a few decent sized islands scattered in the sea.

A thought suddenly struck him. He had no extra clothes, no food, no fresh water; he was all alone, and in the middle of nowhere.

He was toast.

Harry surveyed the area, searching for any signs of settlement—preferably a house. After a few minutes of rotating slowly, he spotted some smoke rising a ways off. It might not have been the smartest thing to run towards a fire, as it could have been entirely natural, but he was five, scared, and suffering from psychological abuse. Logic didn't really seem too important. And so, he ran. Again.

* * *

Three hours later, Harry stumbled wearily, but looked up in relief. For a while, Harry had been walking and walking, but he never seemed to get any closer to the smoke. He could now see that, indeed, he was getting somewhere. In another fifteen minutes he should arrive at the point. He crept as stealthily as he could through the foliage, and finally reached the origin of the smoke, and hopefully, some semblance of civilization. 

Upon seeing the beings that circled the bonfire, he gave a small gasp, before slapping his hand over his mouth. He slunk behind a tree and peeked around it to observe.

* * *

**ACK!** I am _so _sorry about the insanely long wait! I fully didn't intend to let it take this long! School, stress, and all that joy got to me I suppose.  
I do have the third, fourth, and part of the fifth chapter typed out, but I don't have my adapter for my laptop (and therefore, no power) so I can't get to them. I'm hoping to have the next chapter up inside of two weeks though. Again, sorry!...especially if there are a bunch of typos or something in this chapter, cuz I didn't get to check it over as well as I usually like to. 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: Pas moi!

* * *

They were decently tall, and had fairly long hair and pale skin. All five appeared to be male. To young Harry, it appeared they were having a meeting. Four were sitting on logs, and the fifth was in the middle, pacing around the fire and addressing the other four. Harry squinted and leaned forward a bit more to get a closer look. Unfortunately, he leaned forward too much and lost his balance in the unstable ground covering. With a loud 'oaf!' and crunching of twigs and dry leaves, he landed on the ground in clear sight. 

Harry pushed himself up on his elbows. His eyes widened in fear as he saw all five of the humanoid beings staring directly at him. Harry scrambled to get up, but just as he was about to turn and run away, the being that had been standing in the middle caught his arm.

Nervously, Harry blinked and stared up at the intimidating being. "Um, hi?"

* * *

Harry opened his backpack wide. He glanced around the room he had stayed in for the past eleven years, wondering what he should take and what should be left. Anything he left would be sold or thrown away. 

Today was his sixteenth birthday, and the ways of the people demanded he return to his homeland, never to return again. Normally, this wouldn't seem so severe. The island he was on now,Cvep, was the schooling island. On the other four surrounding islands, Criatt, Vlatt, Eratt, and Plyatt, children would live with their parents until the age of eight. On their eighth birthday, all children had to be sent to the central island, Cvep, for schooling and training. It was an odd system with new students constantly coming in, but for some reason, it worked. For eight years they would learn both muggle and magical subjects. It was in the very heritage of the people to do so.

The Elumvs were a race a mere thousand years old, part elf, and part human. Much history had been lost, but it was basic belief that a war drove many elves from their homeland to a group of sparsely populated islands. Over the thousand years since then, humans and elves ceased to be separate races, thus the combined name, Elumvs.

The Elumvs, instead of using wands like most wizards, used staffs. The children would be trained to use their staff as both a magical weapon, and a physical weapon. The Elumvs were a very fit race.

But, on the child's sixteenth birthday, no matter how far they had progressed in their learning, they had to leave for their home island. Cvep was strictly for schooling purposes, and no unnecessary interruptions or distractions were allowed. The only exception made was when the schoolmaster had allowed Harry to live on the island in his care for the three years before he was old enough to start school. Unfortunately for Harry, since he was not from any of the other islands, and he would not be allowed to move to any of them. According to law, the families had to stay on their home island, only allowed to permanently move to another island when marriage occurred between two people from different islands.

As Harry wasn't planning on marrying himself off anytime soon, he had no choice but to leave and return to his 'homeland'.

In other words, the wizarding world.

Sure, he could have gone and lived on as a muggle, but he would not be able to fit in easily, and he was also unwilling to give up magic.

Harry began tossing a few items of clothing onto his bed. A couple of trinkets and toiletries were added to the messy pile before Harry deemed all else disposable. With a staffless spell (which he was quite proud of, as precious few Elumvs could perform more than a handful of staffless magic, while he seemed able to do anything with out the focusing aid of a staff), Harry magically folded his clothes and organized all his items into the single backpack he was permitted to take with him. Harry looked around and nodded in satisfaction.

He'd already said all of his final goodbyes yesterday. Most of his friends had already turned sixteen and departed for their own homes already, so it wasn't a very big affair. Harry continued to look around his room with a sad smile. He had had a very happy life here. He looked to the schoolmaster as a father figure, and he was closer to the teachers than most, due to the extra three years he'd spent on the schooling island.

With one last sigh, Harry prepared to depart from the Elumvs forever. He gave a small chuckle at the circumstances that had brought him here in the first place. It was pure irony. He had wished to be _anywhere else_, and where else did he land, but a group of islands collectively know as the _Ehnyware Isles_. He had come here out of pure dumb luck. Sometimes, dumb luck was awesome.

* * *

Harry slung his backpack over his shoulder and grabbed the portkey set to take him away. It was one of the few places Harry had remembered from his childhood. 

"The Leaky Cauldron!" He yelled, activating the portkey and taking him away from Cvep forever. It had been nice while it lasted, but it was time to move on and return to where he really belonged, whether the wizards wanted him or not.

* * *

"Baagh! Ow!" Harry suddenly found himself in the alley outside the Leaky Cauldron, laying on the stone and staring up into the sky. He stood up shakily and brushed off his loose beige trousers and snug black T-shirt. With a loud sigh, he announced to no one. "I hate, hate, hate portkeys!" He muttered darkly for a moment more, before looking up at the sidewall for the Leaky Cauldron. Harry glanced over the graffiti that had yet to be spelled off, before walking around front and into the ever-busy pub. He went straight to the counter, where he could hopefully get some help. 

Tom the barman greeted him excitedly for a moment before realizing his mistake. "Hello there, Mr. Po- …oh. Um, can I help you…sir?"

Harry's lips thinned. "Yes, actually. I'm…new here, and I was wondering if you knew about anyone who was hiring? I don't actually have any money." It wasn't entirely true, but Harry was guessing the Leaky Cauldron wouldn't accept the few coins of Elumvian currency Harry had brought with him as a souvenir from Cvep.

"Yes, yes, of course. I believe down at the wand shop Mr. Ollivander is looking for a temporary assistant. Something about a break in and needing help reorganizing his shop, I think?"

Harry tapped the counter twice with his hand and nodded his thanks as he began walking away. He went back out to the alley, and counted the bricks. Finding the correct one, he simply pressed it with an index finger and watched as a whole new world opened up before him. As Harry stepped through the gateway for the first time in a long while, a chill ran down his spine as a wave of memories hit him. With Tom almost proclaiming him Hayden, all of Harry's old doubts were starting to flood back, and with them, another memory from his time on Cvep.

* * *

_Harry stared down at his plate. He had eaten his breakfast and he was full, but apparently, he wasn't done yet. His arch nemesis still remained on his plate, just sitting there, looking all innocent. It couldn't fool him though. Broccoli- the epitome of all evil. Honestly, he was eight years old! Why did he still have to eat broccoli, and why for breakfast of all things!_

"Young one, you had best finish that. Your schooling starts today and you will need all the energy and strength you can get."

_Harry winced. "Master Kain, no one will like me. I'm too different. I don't belong here. I'm just a nobody, so why can't I just stay here and you can teach me? No one will miss me."_

"_Says who?" _

_Harry looked up from his plate. "Huh?"_

"_Who says you're a nobody? Who says you don't belong here?"_

_Harry shrugged. "I dunno. Just people, I guess."_

"_People say that, or _you_ say it." _

_Harry didn't answer at first. "Well, it's true, isn't it? At…at home, nobody wanted to talk to me. Everyone wanted Hayden. Hayden's the good one. I'm just the extra; the messed up one."_

_Harry suddenly found his chin being lifted, and a pair of large, wise blue eyes stared into his own. "Never, Harry. Never. There is nothing wrong with you."_

"_But I-" He was cut off as Master Kain placed a finger over his lips. _

"_Harry, you are a very special boy. The circumstances back where you were before don't matter. People weren't fair to you, and that's their fault for trying to use you, and it's their own failings for expecting you to be something you're not. Those people are missing out on knowing a great kid."_

_Harry tried to look down again, but Master Kain firmly kept his fingers under Harry's chin. "No, don't look down. I want you to look at me."_

_Harry obliged. "Harry, I want you to go to school today and be the best _you_ can be. Don't try to be the best someone else can be, just be you. You work and study hard to the best of your abilities and you'll have noting to be ashamed of, Harry. Nothing at all."_

_Harry's lips turned up a little. "Do I still have to eat the broccoli though?"_

_Master Kain just laughed and ruffled Harry's hair._

* * *

With a big sigh, Harry lifted his shoulders and then quickly dropped them. He wouldn't go back to the way he used to think. With that, Harry squared his shoulders and put on an air of confidence. 

At sixteen, he stood at a good, solid six feet tall. He was very athletic looking, as he had spent the last eleven years of his life with the Elumvs, and eight of those were partially dedicated to physical training with and without his staff. The Elumvs usually grew their hair to mid-back, but that was one custom Harry didn't agree with. Instead, he made a compromise with the Elumvian tradition and the short, untidy shock of hair he'd had as a kid. His raven hair was fairly straight and came down to three centimeters below his chin. His hair's untidy predisposition showed itself in the ends, which were splayed in all different directions, flipping in, out, back, forwards, and any of the other 356 degrees that were left. Luckily, he hadn't inherited his…father's need for glasses, though he had been warned soon after coming to Cvep that his previous unhealthy eating habits were bordering on malnutrition, which, in time could have caused damage to parts of his still-developing eyes. The nearly unnatural emerald shade passed on from his mother shone fiercely.

Still partially standing in the gateway to the alley, Harry was about to make his grand entrance, when someone decided to help him along.

"Eh, move along there, sonny boy!" Harry looked back to see a short old lady with a faded purple bonnet, poking him with a cane. He stepped aside and watched as she hobbled past, waving the cane at his face. "Yeh, thaz riih! You jus' get outta the way of us speedsters, ya slowpoke!" Harry got an amused half-grin on his face and watched as she kept on moving at the approximate speed of a turtle. He watched until she got to the end of the short entrance and started turning the corner. "Whoo yeah! Watch it people, I'm-a comin' through! Yeh, take that ya scoundrel! Thaz whacha get fer bumpin' inta me!"

Harry shook his head and looked to the sky. Announcing to himself, he proclaimed, "Welcome back, I suppose."

* * *

**So** there you have it! Harry is 16! (hurray!)And ya know where he went! (whoot!) Originally I was going to do a few chapters of him growing up and whatnot, but I decided to just get on with it. There will likely be a few more flashbacks to Harry growing up or training instead. 

Well, I hope you liked it! Please review!


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: Harry Potter does not belong to me.

At the moment, Harry was really wishing he had an extra head or two. Or, at least some eyes in the back of his head. There was so much going on! There were venders and shopkeepers and all kinds of witches and wizards with the strangest styles and the oddest pets, just walking around in broad daylight!

Harry looked sadly upon the quidditch store, remembering his childhood wishes. He looked at the bookshop, wondering if they had ever gotten around to stocking muggle titles yet. He marveled at the bank, remembering the wild ride of the cart.

Finally, he came to the correct place. The barman was right; there most certainly had been a break-in, as well as quite a bit of vandalism at Ollivanders. The windows were still smashed, and the tiny jagged pieces of glass glittered in the sunlight. When Harry reached for the door knob, he noticed the knob had several scrapes in the gold color, and the door was marred with deep scratches from top to bottom, as if some animal had attempted to claw it's way inside. When he opened the door, a bell tinkled for a second before dropping on Harry's head and falling to the floor with a slight clatter. Harry didn't see anyone right away, but he did hear a voice from somewhere in the back.

"Oh, oh, not another one!" A desperate sounding voice said. "So much work to do, I'll never be able to find the right wands!"

The odd looking man suddenly appeared behind the counter. "Ah, yes. What seems to be the problem with your wand Mr. Po-…oh! Mr. Potter! The lost child has returned!" A gleeful smile came over the man's face. "This is a happy day indeed! Yes, yes, you are finally in need of your wand?"

Harry just gave the man an odd look. "Um, not really? I was here for a…job- is there something you need?" Harry looked at the man, being slightly confused but mostly offended. Ollivander had suddenly come up to him and started measuring his arms and pulling at his fingers.

"Hmm, don't get many this age. Hmmm, curious." He muttered as he held up Harry's hand and spread his fingers apart. "Maybe a- wait! Job? You aren't here to obtain your wand?"

"…no? I was told you needed help to put your shop back together. If you already have someone, that's ok, I'll just ask around some more to see if-"

"No! No need for that lost child, come, let me show you what work is needed to be done. Much work, yes, much work."

"Uh, sir? I'm not lost." Harry said as he followed Mr. Ollivander between isles, carefully stepping around all the boxes and wands that littered the floor.

The man kept of walking. "Ah, but you were, young lost Potter."

"Yeah, I_ was_. I'm not anymore."

"We shall see." The shopkeeper said in a singsong voice. "Ah, here is where I was."

Harry looked around, seeing no discernable difference in the mess at this spot than at any other.

"This is the system." Harry suddenly found the bottom of a wand box being shoved in his face. "These codes," he pointed to some gray-ish numbers and letters handwritten on the box, "go with these wands." He held up a long roll of parchment in Harry's face, which listed all of the codes, along with the particulars of each corresponding wand. "You, don't worry about the wand cores, that's my job. Just make piles of all wands of the same type of wood and all boxes with a code that indicates the type of wood. For example, HO means Holly, EB means Ebony, and WL means willow. You are understanding, yes? Good."

Ollivander walked to another area and began working on sorting the wands by core. Harry stared after him for a moment, shaking his head at the man's weird mood swings and odd speech patterns. Harry began working steadily, all the while wondering if he should ask how much he was being paid.

444

Six hours later found one very bored teen surrounded by piles of wands sorted by wood type, and stacks of the boxes that supposedly corresponded. He sighed and stood up, giving a small wince when his back cracked. "Excuse me, Mr. Ollivander?"

"Mm?"

"It's nine o'clock."

"Is it really?"

"Yeah. Well, we never really made a contract or anything, so I was wondering if I could leave now, and how much you're paying me? Oh— what time do you want me to come back tomorrow?"

"That's very nice." Mr. Ollivander was apparently fascinated by a wand and was examining it from all angles.

Ok, Harry would be the first to admit that he was acting very subdued, but he had been blaming it on the culture shock and the fact that he had needed a job. Things really needed to change.

"_Excuse _me! I'm leaving. Money. Now."

"Ah, wonderful wand, this." Mr. Ollivander stated calmly as he ran a polishing rag over it."

Harry stalked over to the shopkeeper. "Mr. Ollivander!" He yanked the wand out of the man's hands in order to get his attention. "I have been picking up your stupid wands for six hours! I-"

"I knew it! I knew it! That wand has been waiting for you, lost child! I thought I would have been rid of that tricky one five years ago, but it wasn't so! Oh, it was for you! The lost Potter has claimed it! I wonder…" He broke off.

Harry looked down at the wand he had snatched away and saw a steady stream of gold sparkles falling to the floor from its tip. He suddenly found a bag of coins being pressed into his other hand.

"That's four galleons an hour minus the seven for the wand. Seventeen. Have a nice day lost one! I won't be needing your assistance anymore, goodbye!"

Harry abruptly found himself standing outside the door with his backpack hanging from his elbow, and a wand in one hand and a bag of galleons in the other. He stood there for a while, trying to figure out what the heck just happened.

"Eh, 'tis you again."

Harry looked over and saw the old lady with the cane from earlier.

"Yeh got s'm problems up in there boy?" She jabbed his head with her cane. "Yeh jus' gonna stand aroun' all day, eh? She prodded his leg. "Well what good are yeh?" She poked his side.

Harry's gaze suddenly turned cold. He grabbed her stabbing cane and forcefully pulled it from her grasp. "Plenty." He began walking off with the cane still held tightly in his left hand, the right hand now holding the wand and money.

"Eh! Eh! You get back here youn' whippersnapper! You give that back or you'll be sorry next month, 'specially ifn you're in meh class!"

Harry stopped and turned around. "Excuse me? Your _class_?"

"Yeh, don'cha wanna defen' yerself fr'm those scumbags!"

Harry was just plain-out confused. Why on Earth would he take a class- a class to_ defend_ himself off all things! He was perfectly capable of defense. What scumbags was she talking about anyway?

Instead of asking, he just continued walking until he found a nice dark spot between shops. He cleared some of the gravel away and lay down, using his backpack as a lumpy pillow. He had slept outside plenty of times, and wasn't about to blow what little money he had on some dumb room room at the inn. He threw an arm over his eyes and prepared for sleep.

Soon enough, the old lady came hobbling over to him, demanding her cane back. "I'm not gonna ben' down and get tha' young un, give it here!"

Harry slid his arm up his forehead to look at her, incidentally pulling his long bangs back. "Fine, here's your stupid-" He stopped when he saw the lady's expression. She shakily took her cane from his extended arm, eyes fixed on his forehead—more specifically, on his scar.

"Oh my." She hobbled away as fast as she could, and a few minutes later the give-away crack of apparition sounded.

Harry just put his arm back over his eyes and muttered to himself about crazy old people.

444

With hindsight, maybe sleeping on stone wasn't such a great idea. How'd he get gravel down his trousers anyway?

Harry shifted uncomfortably, wondering what had woken him up. He moved his arm from his eyes a little. The sun was out, so it was definitely morning- probably about eight, from the position of the sun.

"Shh, shush, shush! I think he's waking up!" Someone whispered.

Harry tried to slide his arm over his eyes again as discreetly as possible and pretended to be asleep again.

"No, he was just stirring. Are you sure it's him?" A deep voice replied.

"Yes 'm sure! Do ya know any other teenagers who would wander 'round he'e with black hair an' green eyes an' a lightnin' bolt sca'? Eh? Eh?"

Crud, it was that annoying old lady…and she had obviously recognized him from the sounds of it.

"Ok, geez! I was just asking! Do you have any idea how much trouble we'd get in for abducting some random kid?"

"Eh? I didn' think ya were one fer the rules, yeh?"

"Shush! So…what do we do?"

"We? I jus' found 'im. You do somethin'."

"Right."

"…Well?"

"I'm thinking! Ok, how about we just, um, wake him up and explain things?"

Harry heard a sound that could only be the lady's cane on the man's head. "Are ya daft? He's been gone for eleven years! _He's_ the one that should be explaining! Where's he been all this time? Why couldn't anyone find him? Why is he back now? Ya know, that sort o' thing, Potter!"

Potter? Did that mean…

He heard the man- James Potter, presumably- walk over to him. Before he could touch the young man, Harry was up on his feet. He had grabbed his shrunken staff from one of the side pockets in his backpack and extended it to full length. The end was now right before James' face with a small disc of swirling red magic hovering just above the tip, ready to be sent at any second. "What. Do. You. Want." Harry's face was expressionless, his eyes like frozen fire, and his body tensed and ready for action.

James' eyes went wide. He held up his arms in the universally recognized sign of submission, but kept both fists closed.

Looking back, Harry knew he should have seen it coming. He should have been able to see the magic at work, but he let his conflicting emotions about facing down his father blind him. Harry ordered James to open his hands. With Harry's staff still pointing at him, James slowly opened his right hand.

"Open the other one." Harry demanded, slightly pointing his staff in the direction of James' unopened left hand. Without warning, James opened his hand and propelled an object towards the ground with a flick of his wrist. Harry was torn between keeping his eyes on the older man and finding out what had been dropped. He made the mistake of concentrating on James, for in fact, James had dropped a small silver ball. As soon as it made contact with the pavement, the sphere went rolling and bumped up against the tip of Harry's shoe. In a split second, the teen felt that bothersome pull behind his navel and he disappeared without a trace.

444

Harry landed very firmly, almost causing his knees to buckle. The first thing he saw was some red carpet—very familiar red carpet. Harry swallowed thickly, dread rising quickly. He slowly lifted his head and blinked several times rapidly, hoping to restore moisture to his dry eyes. Not even three seconds later, he heard a loud crack from upstairs, and a frantic male voice yell out "where is he!"

Harry smirked. While the portkey had caught him completely by surprise, he had still tried to fight the transportation magic while in transit. It obviously hadn't worked out the way he would have liked, but it looked like he'd managed to land downstairs instead of whatever cage they had prepared elsewhere in the house. Maybe this was his chance to escape?

Putting little power into it, Harry went to apparate away. It was like running straight into a wall. Harry fell backwards and cursed silently as he found himself staring at the ceiling. He was clearly not keyed into the wards anymore, like James was, since James had been able to apparate _in_ just fine. Just as he made to get up and make a run for it, James came thundering down the stairs.

"Who's there!"

Harry, still flat on his back, sighed dramatically. He lifted an arm and lazily waved it before allowing his arm to flop back to the floor.

444

Wow! Thanks for all the reviews! I never expected that many for one chapter!

I hope y'all liked this one too! Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

**Invisibly Jaded  
Chapter Five **

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

"Don't worry." Harry said in a nonchalant voice. " 'Tis just me, your kidnapee."

"…LILY!"

Lily Potter rushed down next to him. She must've been whom James was talking to a minute ago.

"Harry? Oh, it really _is_ you!"

"Yeah, it's me. Goodbye now." Harry stood up and walked to the front door, shrinking his staff back down and sliding it into his back pocket.

"No!" A locking spell flew past Harry and hit the door. Harry quickly glanced back and saw his birth mother standing there with her wand out. His father stood next to her, clutching Harry's backpack that had been left behind in Diagon Ally when he was unexpectedly portkeyed away.

Harry winced a little, deciding to count the backpack and all his items as lost, and simply put his hand in front of the knob and let his own magic take care of unlocking it. He opened the door and left, only to run straight into a tall old man, getting a mouthful of gray hair.

"Plegh! Yeg! Bleech!" Harry frantically wiped his tongue with his hand to get rid of the hair and taste. Unfortunately, he had backed up and dropped his guard after running into the man, and was now inside the house with James (who had apparently dropped Harry's bag) securing Harry's arms to his sides by wrapping his own around Harry from the back.

Since Harry's arms were free below his elbows, he reached up and gripped James' wrists. He picked up his feet, causing James to hold Harry's entire weight, and therefore slightly losing his balance. Harry planted his feet on his father's thighs and trust himself forward and up while still holding his fathers wrists. The result was Harry flipping over James Potter's arms, freeing himself, and sending James into a face plant on the carpet.

For the third time, he tried to get away, yet failed again. He was struck by three full body bind curses simultaneously. It only took fifteen seconds to shake off the curses, but it was fife seconds too late, for within ten seconds of Harry's detainment, the house was locked down, two wizards and a witch had their wands aimed at him, and two wide-eyed teenagers were on the stairs, looking over the rail at the scene below them.

The resemblance struck Harry immediately. He knew who the two teens were. The male was his fraternal-but-strangely-similar-in-appearance twin brother, the famous Hayden Potter. The female Harry didn't recognize, but then again, she had only been two when he had disappeared. Harry knew who she was-- Oriana was now a charming red-haired and emerald-eyed thirteen-year-old.

Harry's eyes lingered on his siblings for a while, before they found themselves meeting pairs of blue, green, and brown eyes.

James was busy holding his bleeding nose from falling on his face, so Harry couldn't determine what his emotions seemed to be. The old man—Albus Dumbledore if Harry recalled correctly—looked like a kid in a candy store. Lily appeared torn between grief and joy.

* * *

It was official, Harry decided. Life sucked.

Harry was a fully trained Elumvian warrior, and an _extremely_ well trained one at that. He could have escaped if he really wanted to. That was the problem though; Harry didn't know if he wanted to get away. The Elumvians had been as caring as anyone and had adopted him into their society, but maybe…really…truly what he wanted was his real family. He had been all of five years old at the time he left, so surely his family had changed since then.

Harry stopped pacing and flopped back on his bed. Glancing at the clock, Harry found it to be midnight. He had been captured at around eight in the morning, and had then spent the next six stinking hours 'negotiating' with his parents and Dumbledore, only breaking for lunch at noon. What it all boiled down to was that Harry could not petition for his emancipation and possibly hope for it to go through, taking into account that had only recently turned sixteen, both of his parents were still alive and well-off, he still had to attend at least another year of school according to wizarding law, and had no current source of income. Simply put, unless Harry wanted the Ministry of Magic after him, Harry was stuck living with his family for another month, and then being shipped off to boarding school with Hayden and Oriana come September. Life _totally_ sucked.

As Harry hadn't exactly felt up to 'mingling and catching up on old times' as Albus had put it, Harry simply retreated to his dusty old room for the rest of the afternoon and evening.

Still on his back, he sighed deeply. As interesting as the ceiling was, Harry found himself finally drifting off to sleep.

* * *

Eight A.M.! Harry couldn't believe it. For the second day in a row he had slept in until eight. It was unacceptable, simply unacceptable. True, there _had _been a time difference of several hours between the Ehnyware Isles and Britain, but that was no excuse. Five AM: wake up. Five o' five: workout/physical training. Six forty five: shower. Seven: breakfast. Seven ten: attend lessons. It was the way he had worked with the Elumvians. 

It was now ten, and Harry had been working out for the past two hours, adding an extra twenty minutes to his normal routine as a form of self-discipline. He practically burst out of his room and scrambled down the hallway for the bathroom to shower and get ready for the day. He tossed his dirty clothes in a pile by the door and the clean clothes in the middle of the floor, and jumped in the shower, allowing the hot water to wash the salty sweat from his body.

Pounding at the door interrupted his relaxation.

"Ori, get out already! I'm supposed to meet my friends in an hour!"

Harry heard a faint voice from down the hall.

"I'm not in the bathroom, Hayden, so quit yelling! I'm trying to sleep!"

"At ten? You're so lazy! Get up already!"

"Hypocrite." She scoffed. "I'm lazy? Yeah right, Mr. I-just-got-up-five-minutes-ago."

Pounding was again heard at the door. "Hey, who's in there, I really gotta get ready! Mum? Dad?"

Harry, meanwhile, had been finishing his shower and changing into some comfortable, clean clothes.

"Hel-looo?" Hayden called again.

Harry whipped open the door, and the brothers found themselves face to face. "The bathroom is all yours." Harry said, ushering Hayden in with a sweep of his arms. It was the first thing said between the brothers for eleven years.

"Er, thanks." Hayden nervously shuffled past, while Harry just raised an eyebrow. Quite obviously, it was an awkward situation that was not likely to resolve itself with a simple wave of a wand or snap of the fingers.

Harry was thinking of what to do next, when he heard someone clear his or her throat. "Um, Harry?" It was Oriana. "Could…could I talk to you for a minute?" She shifted her weight from foot to foot. "Just—" she motioned to her room and walked inside.

Harry followed her, and curiously looked into her room, not knowing what to expect. As opposed to a bright pink and purple girly theme, she instead had a simple blue and green color scheme, and nice, but not overly elaborate, furnishings. People often decorated according to what suits their personality, so along with the snatch of conversation he'd overheard a few minutes ago, Harry was hopeful that he'd get along with, and eventually find a friend in his younger sister. After all, he had no reason to hold anything against her, unlike the rest of his family.

"Yes? You wanted to talk?"

Oriana chewed at a fingernail and sat heavily on her bed. She looked up at him suddenly. "Ok, this is really weird. I…I don't even remember you, and now…now you're like, _living_ with us!" She began speaking more rapidly as she formed the words to what she wanted to say in her head. "You were five when you went, well, wherever you went, so no one really has much information to go by here. I understand that you're sort of unhappy with the situation you're stuck in now, but no one has any idea where you're even coming from!"

"So…"

"So, I don't know. What's your favorite color?"

"Green."

"Me too! See, we're getting somewhere. 'K, uh, what's your favorite food?"

"Kasiann Jinosse."

"Yeah, cuz I definitely know what the heck_ that_ is." Oriana rolled her eyes and looked at him for further information.

"It's a type of fruit from the Ehn—um, the place where I've been for the past eleven years." Harry looked at the wall, suddenly seeming very interested in a Quidditch poster. "So you like Quidditch?" He asked, abruptly changing the topic.

Oriana nodded vigorously. "Yeah, I'm hoping to make it as reserve chaser this year. I probably won't get to play any games, but at least I'll get to practice with the rest of the team so I'll have a better chance of making it another year." She seemed to get more excited about the topic. "My one friend, Ginny Weasley—she's two years ahead of me, in fifth year—she's tying out for the team this year for chaser. She is an _awesome_ player! If it weren't for the older girls who were on the team before, she definitely would have been more than reserve before. Her whole family's really into Quidditch, actually. Her twin brothers were beaters on the team, and her brother Ron made the keeper last year for Gryffindor house. How about you? Oh, no, never mind. Stupid question I suppose."

"Actually, I used to like Quidditch a lot, but…" He trailed off for a moment and got a funny look in his eyes. "But, I haven't been on a broom in ages, so I'm probably not even any good." His lips involuntarily twitched upwards.

"Ha! Don't think I didn't see that smile mister!"

Harry held up his hands. "I never said I was trying to hide it now, did I?"

Oriana gave him a pseudo-haughty look and flipped her hair behind her shoulder. "No, but," she raised her eyebrows and looked down her nose at him. "I could just tell. I'm special like that." She sniffed.

Harry let out a snort at her antics. "Uh huh, I'll bet you are pretty 'special', aren't you."

Oriana narrowed her eyes. "And just what is that supposed to mean?" She teasingly threatened.

"Oh, nothing, nothing. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I'll go get some breakfast." Harry smirked at her stood up.

"Well then I think I'll get some as well. You're cooking though—unless you actually like flaming waffles of doom, that is."

Harry stopped and gave Oriana a strange look. "How exactly do you catch _waffles_ on _fire_? I can understand burning, but…"

Oriana scratched the back of her neck and broke eye contact. "Eh, don't ask, really. That's just one of my uh, 'special' talents."

* * *

"_So distracted, Harry?"_

_Strong wooden staffs clashed together in rhythm, each offensive move being blocked and each defensive move failing to win an advantage. Harry closed one eye as a drop of sweat slid into his eye, stinging it momentarily._

"_No, why…ow! Why would I be?" Harry backed off for a moment as he shook his left arm, which had just been whacked by his opponent and teacher, Master Kain._

"_I haven't a clue." The Elumvian stated, never letting up for a second. "It could be the fact that your day of birth quickly comes. It could be that you are worried about meeting…certain people."_

"_Nervous? No, not nervous. Slightly unsettled, maybe. I mean, it—ow!" A sharp rap to the kneecap had the young man cringing. "It's been almost eleven years. I hardly remember being somewhere other than here. I was five, and people tend not to remember things from that age very well, you know? I probably just didn't understand what was going on very well, and completely freaked for nothing and ended up accidentally apparating myself thousands of miles away to this secret hidden society of beings, and—" Harry was once again cut off, but this time it was by Master Kain silencing him by putting his hand over Harry's mouth._

_Master Kain raised an eyebrow and slowly took his hand from the young man's mouth. "It was not 'nothing'. I have seen your memories and felt your feelings. Yes, you were five, and mistook a few things, but it wasn't just the one incident that provoked the magic, was it?"_

_Harry shook his head slowly._

"_You were wronged by a lot of people. You were wronged by your parents for treating you as a less important person than your brother. You were wronged by all who expected too much from you, and from those who tried to use you. You were wronged by all of them for an event beyond your control. So what if your brother survived one of the most feared curses of all time. It doesn't make him a better person. Who's to say the exact same thing wouldn't have happened if you were the one to be hit by the curse? From what I gather, who's to say it actually _was_ your brother who really survived the killing curse anyway?"_

"Master Kain, everyone knows it was Hayd…my brother. He has a big ol' nasty scar on his palm to prove it!"

"_You also received a scar that night, if I am not mistaken."_

"_Rubble. The whole room was collapsing. It was just a piece of ceiling or glass or something. There's nothing special about a zig-zag scar on my stupid head."_

_Master Kain sighed deeply. "Those wizards and witches really messed you up. I, as well as my colleagues, have been trying to get you out of your self-depreciating periods and your low self-confidence since you were accepted here eleven years ago. I know we're getting somewhere, but you always slide back into it every once in a while. What was that you said once? Old habits die hard? Well get over it and break the habit. You have to leave soon, and I won't be there to guide you along anymore. You will have to make your own decisions._

* * *

"Yo, Earth to Harry! Is anybody in there? You're burning your eggs." 

Harry snapped out of his memories and swiveled around. "_My_ e-". He broke off, seeing Oriana sitting at the table, chowing down on the food he had set aside for himself. Harry looked back to the burning eggs on the stove. "I see. _My_ eggs are burning." He turned off the stove and dumped the over-cooked eggs onto a plate, slightly disturbed to see them drop like lead.

"Yeah, ladies first, doncha know?" Oriana shoveled another bite of perfectly fried egg into her mouth.

"Yes, well," Harry swooped over and yanked the plate and fork away from her. "Age before beauty." He began eating the hot breakfast.

"Wha- what the-! You _stole_ my food! And three years doesn't count!" She reached across the table, where Harry had settled, and grabbed a gob of eggs with her bare hand. As neatly as possible, which wasn't very much, she began to eat the soft food from her palm.

Harry looked down at the broken bits and pieces on the plate. He silently pushed it back to her with the fork on top and stood up. "Um, go ahead. Its all yours." He went back to the fridge and began the process again.

"Ugh! Ori, you didn't try making waffles again, did you? It smells dreadful in here!"

Harry looked up from discarding the burnt eggs and saw Hayden Potter standing in the doorway to the kitchen.

Things were about to get interesting.

* * *

**Hello** again. I'm sorry for the long wait, but hey, at least I updated, right? Right? 

Anyways, I hope you liked this chapter...I'm a bit unsure of it myself. Please review!


	6. Chapter 6

**Invisibly Jaded**

**Chapter 6**

* * *

A jerk! A big, stupid, arrogant, egotistical, jerk! A nosy busybody too! The nerve of some people. 

Ok, maybe that was a little harsh, but still, Hayden didn't have to be so…so…Hayden!

Harry hadn't been sure what to expect from his twin, so he had come off kind of…wimpy. Lovely Hayden Potter, greatest wizard in the history of EVER, of course, took advantage of that.

Stupid twin. He should've just socked the twit in the face. Or stomach. Or anywhere at all. But nooo, he didn't. He just stood there like some sort of complete pansy.

'Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention and burnt some eggs'? What the heck! He should've said something like 'what's it to you?' or _anything_ that didn't sound so submissive.

He should have flung one of the rock-eggs at Hayden's head.

He was Harry Potter, Elumvian warrior, graduate of Ehnyware Isles magical school, and nobody had the right to mess with him like that.

Apparently, Hayden was nobody, because he had certainly messed with Harry.

'Well if you can't pay attention, maybe you shouldn't cook. It probably needs salt anyway. I would've just called a restaurant and told them to deliver breakfast...of course they deliver to _me_, duh!'

Wave the scarred hand. Check. Roll the eyes. Check. Look at Harry like he's stupid. Double check.

How dare Hayden lord his crummy "Boy-who-lived" status over him! Master Kain was right. Just because Hayden survived the dumb killing curse didn't make Hayden a better person. It made him a big, stupid, arrogant, egotistical, jerk, that's what!

Harry paced back and forth in his room as he mulled over the event, making another pathway in the dust that had settled there over the years. Hayden had left for his friend's house over an hour ago, and his parents would be arriving soon, having had some sort of 'important business' to do that had called them away in the early hours of the morning.

Oh, but how he'd paid Hayden back for his oh-so-generous kindness – kindness being defined as Hayden actually lowering himself enough to actually speak to Harry. He wished he'd only had some way of recording that moment...

* * *

Hayden held his smug little grin of superiority on his face as he turned to strut towards the fireplace to undoubtedly fire-call a restaurant for breakfast. As silent as shadow, Harry moved a quick eight steps to stand directly in his brother's path, and mere centimeters from Hayden's body. Harry bent his neck forward and down a small bit as he continued to stare directly in the brown eyes of his slightly shorter fraternal twin. Eyes wide in surprise, Hayden unconsciously took half a step back in order to secure more personal space. Harry matched him, stepping forward just enough to put himself back at the same distance he'd first established. Harry's emerald orbs shone like the dying embers of a fire, just waiting for fuel to be added and sparked back to life in a blazing inferno. The underlying danger couldn't be more clear. Hayden took a full step back, and Harry again matched him with precise movements, never once breaking eye contact. 

"L-look, what's your problem? Haven't you ever heard of–"

"Silence." It was only a low whisper, but Hayden's lower teeth audibly clanked against his upper at the command. "I don't care who you _think_ you are, but you are _no one_ special until you prove otherwise."

Though the statement seemed hypocritical, Harry reminded himself that he had not tried to bully Hayden in the first place.

Hayden opened his mouth again to attempt an angry retort, but Harry shoved his four fingers under Hayden's chin while part of his palm covered his twin's mouth, and his thumb came to rest near the jaw joint.

"I was willing to give you a chance to prove yourself to be more than a meaningless idol, but you seem to be determined to present evidence to the contrary of the population's expectations." Harry glared silently for a moment. "Respect me, and I will respect you. Disrespect me, and, well..." He smirked viciously. Harry allowed his smirk to fall flat as he turned away, but narrowed his eyes dangerously before stalking out of the kitchen and away from his siblings.

* * *

Harry had been in his dusty little room since that event, with neither sibling attempting to contact him, alternating between laying on his bed in boredom and pacing aggressively. He dropped his body to the bed once more and began staring at the exciting dust particles dancing through the air. 

A timid knock on the door alerted him to the fact that someone remembered he existed. With a long sigh, Harry got up and answered, praying it wasn't Hayden back already to try and redeem some dignity or whatever.

He leaned against the wall and opened the door only enough to get a good look at the face of the person attempting to contact him. He stared right into the eyes of Oriana. Still relaxed against the wall, he released his hold on the doorknob and allowed her to push the door open the rest of the way and enter his pitiful domain.

Oriana said nothing for a few moments, seeming satisfied to look around the room and run a few fingers over dusty furniture. "I've never been in here before." She turned around. "At least, not that I remember."

Harry quirked an eyebrow and shifted so his back leaned against the wall, rather than his side. Oriana gave him a confused look. "Aren't you going to change your clothes? That's sort of dirty."

Harry looked down on himself and turned the confused look back on her. "I did change! And even if I hadn't, how do you know I didn't just use a cleaning charm on them?"

His sister smiled. "Because everyone knows you can't use magic during the summer, silly."

"And why can't I?"

"Because." Oriana stated definitively.

"Because why?"

"Because it goes against the Underage Magic Law, that's why!" She gave him a crooked, teasing grin.

"Ah, but you assume I am registered under that law. Seeing as I've been 'missing and presumed dead' for just a few years," he grinned, "I seem to have been exempted from notice—for the time being, at least." Harry's staff flew to his hand from his backpack and resized in an instant. "I'm sure my name will be back under the law in no time, though my magical signature will still be registered under my Ollivander's wand." He gave the staff a quick spin before pointing it at the floor. A moment later and the room stood clear of dust. Harry smirked. "And the underage magic law can only restrain as long as it can detect…and I did change my clothes. I just happen to only have three outfits that all look the same."

"Three! That's— that's…three? That's all you have from, like, your entire _life_!" She pointed at his backpack. "Well! I came to tell you that mum and dad just got back and wanted to take us out for lunch, but now I am for _sure_ making them take us shopping!" Oriana stated with a determined expression on her face, and hands on her hips. She poked him in the chest. "That's a nice ensemble and all, but I, for one, am going to make sure you have absolutely no reason to leave us all again. We Potter's may not be overly extravagant, but we've money enough to make sure you're not wandering around like some homeless waif in the same clothes all the time!" She poked him in the chest again to enunciate her point. Oriana started stalking out of the room, but suddenly turned around and studied him. She looked between Harry and the finger she'd poked him with a few times before smirking. "You work out a lot, don't you." It wasn't phrased much like a question at all.

"Yes?"

Oriana's smirk broadened. "Man, no wonder Hayden was so peeved at having you show up." The girl snorted and muttered something to herself before skipping out of the room.

Harry had no idea what he'd missed, but as he moved to follow, he was clued in by his sister's voice echoing faintly down the halls as she celebrated to herself.

"Ha ha ha! No more bringing over any idiot girl you want, Hayden! You've got competition now who won't take any of your crap! And that frees me from enduring all those brainless gold-diggers! _Yes!_"

* * *

So here he was. Shopping in London. With his parents and sister. Serious thought of trying to escape hadn't even entered his mind. It just wasn't plausible. They would just go looking for him, now that they knew he was alive for sure, and besides, he was giving them a chance. Another chance, another chance, another chance… 

"Oh, no! There is no way I am even trying that on!"

"You look good in green!"

"Not _puke_-green!"

"Come on! Pleeease!" Oriana batted her eyes and gave Harry the pouty lip. "You don't even have to show anyone but me!" Her lower lip gave a slight quiver.

Curse the pouty lip.

Harry roughly grabbed the shirt from her hands. "Fine, but if anyone else sees this and accuses me of looking like a large mass of vomit, I'm blaming you." He stalked off to the fitting rooms.

Crazy girls and their so-called 'sense of fashion'.

Clothes were made so you weren't running around with your cheeks flapping in the wind—and not the face ones—not so everyone could be impressed at your ability to match colors with your eyes and skin tone and whatever else there was to be coordinated.

Stupid puke-green t-shirt.

Harry swiftly took off his own shirt and slid the other one on. The fit was far from humongously baggy, but it wasn't quite at the stage where it was so tight and clingy that you might have gone cheek-flapping naked for all that it hid. It was a comfortably loose fit, and if it wasn't for the color, he would have happily worn it. He supposed there were color charms that could be used to dye clothes…

Harry came out of the changing room and glared at his sister. There was no way she was winning. "There. You happy?"

Oriana tapped her lip with her left index finger a few times and then nodded. "Yep." She pulled her right arm from behind her back and presented him with an entire range of colors of the exact same style of shirt. "I just wanted to see if you'd actually put that disgusting color on!" She giggled surprisingly evilly. Harry gave her a hurt look before practically diving back into the changing room. "Uhh, Harry?" She hesitantly spoke. "I was just kidding, you know. Like, what are sisters for, you know? …Harry? You aren't mad at me, are you?" Panic seeped into her voice.

The door creaked as it slowly opened. Harry smirked at her. "No, I'm not mad. I'm just teasing you." He threw the wadded up shirt at her face and strutted out in his own clothing. "What are brothers for, you know?"

"Harry! I hate you!"

"I love you too, sis," He shot back.

* * *

Harry slid out of the fireplace with as much grace as a cow on ice skates. "Ooh, I hate flooing." He stood up with a hand on his back. 

"Don't worry, son, it just takes a little practice. You'll get used to it soon, I'm sure," James stated.

Harry looked up at his parents. Even though he'd just gone out to lunch with them and had spent several hours shopping, (in muggle London, of course, to avoid being recognized/mistaken for Hayden, except for flooing there and back via a quick trip through the nearly empty Leaky Cauldron) he had had little interaction with anyone but his sister the entire time. Yes, he was planning on giving them a chance to redeem themselves, but he couldn't help but be wary. While he was able to meet Oriana as a whole new person since he'd never really known her from her youth (other than a few crying tantrums that woke the whole house up), he was having a harder time looking at his parents in the same way. He had been five at the time, and as a consequence, didn't have very many memories that he could recall with ease. The day of his and Hayden's fifth birthday party was really the only thing that stuck out in his mind. Mostly, he had only a vague sense of hurt and loneliness. Those feelings were proving hard to shake off. Combined with the rough near-kidnapping after his return to England, Harry felt distinctly distrustful of his own parents.

The silence became deafening and all four Potters stood uncomfortably still for a moment, as if the slightest displacement of air would reek havoc upon their world.

The silence was broken like a bolt of lightening that careened through the air, causing a long and deep roll of thunder. Oriana spoke.

"So, Harry, why don't we go put all of this," she held up a few bags, "away in your room—get you all settled in, you know?"

"Right." He spoke in a sharp military-like tone, not letting himself show that the surprise interruption affected him at all.

"I'll go start dinner, then." Lily spoke. She whipped around, red hair momentarily flashing in the light. "James, be a dear and help me peel the potatoes." He complied and followed his wife to the kitchen as Oriana and her brother made their way up the stairs.

* * *

As soon as Harry entered the room, a white plastic bag started to fly by his head from behind. He deftly caught it with a hand, and turned to his sister just in time to see and catch a second bag full of new clothes. 

"Hey! What the hell are you doing?"

"Language, Harry. For your information, I was _trying_ to help you get your clothes all sorted, but you're catching them."

"You were throwing them!"

"Yeah, I was going to put them all on your bed and then we could sort and fold them all."

"Well you could have just dropped them on my bed instead of _flinging_ them past my _head_!"

Oriana just shrugged and lobbed a third bag at the bed. Harry just let it go, partially due to the fact that he knew what was going on now, and partially because his hands were completely full. He watched passively as his little red-headed sister gleefully turned the shopping bag upside down and roughly shook its contents out all over the top of his bed. Resignedly, he bought all the bags he was holding and put them on the bed, letting the flimsy plastic handles slide down his arms and out of his hands. He watched again as his sister proceeded to dump his new clothing out and strew it over his bed.

"All right now, you fold the shirts, I'll fold the trousers," Oriana directed. "I hate folding shirts."

Harry let out a snort. "Gee…thanks. I feel the love."

"And I feel the sarcasm."

* * *

"Ori! Harry! Dinner, now!" 

"WE! ARE! COMING!" Oriana screeched at her mother from Harry's room for what must've been the fourth time. "Yeesh. Does no one know the meaning of 'just a minute' anymore?" She complained to herself. She looked up at the sound of a drawer closing.

"It's done," Harry said. "Let's get on down to dinner before…she…decides to have us for tomorrow's dinner, eh?"

If Oriana noticed Harry's hesitation, she ignored it.

The two siblings thundered down the stairs and made their way to the kitchen. They arrived to see their mother still placing dishes on the table.

James was sitting at the head of the table with his head in his hand. "Lils, if you say dinner's ready, most would assume that dinner is actually ready, not _almost_ ready."

"Well, if I could get some help around here, then things might go a little faster!" She gave her husband a pointed glare.

"Or if you would just let us get a house-elf like—"

"For the last time we are not getting a house-elf!"

Harry decided it would be a super-great idea to speak up before the argument went any further. Plus he was pretty hungry. "Problems?"

"NO!" Both parents screeched at the same time.

"Good. What's that junk?" Harry stuck his finger in a whitish paste and scooped some out. He sucked it off his finger and nodded in approval. "It's good, whatever it is."

"It's mashed potatoes, you dolt! How on Earth do you not know that?"

The teen boy looked at his sister. "Oh yeah. Potato. Haven't had that in a while…"

"No potatoes!" The thirteen-year-old looked aghast. "How did you _live_! No potato! That's just wrong and stupid. And insane. Honestly, no potatoes?"

"Ori," Lily interrupted. "Let's not, you know, umm…James! Why don't you start serving?"

The man grabbed the ladle and began dutifully doling out a serving of the potatoes onto his plate before passing it to Oriana. As he began to drown the pile in gravy, the fireplace light up and a black-haired teen flew out with no small amount of noise and landed awkwardly on the floor.

Harry glanced at his father and dryly intoned "I thought you said it just took practice". Before James had a chance to answer, another teen popped out of the flames and neatly stepped out.

Hayden quickly stood up and brushed himself off. "Hey dad, hope you don't mind Ron coming over for dinner and Quidditch later?" He plopped himself down at the table as James nodded. The red-head quickly followed and almost missed the chair as he sat because his eyes were so firmly focused on the food.

"Yeah, uh…" The tall red-head served himself a large portion. "Thanks, Mr. P."

James rolled his eyes at the shortening of his name and dinner continued on in, yet again, an awkward silence. As Harry ate, he even started to unconsciously make sure his silverware didn't clank against his plate too hard to avoid making noise.

Soon enough though, Hayden started up a lively conversation with Ron and his father about the pros and cons of the newest brooms on the market, and argued quite in depth about which was really the best broom out there. Even Oriana inserted a few comments. Harry was quite understandably completely clueless, and became lost in his own thoughts instead. It was for this reason that he was startled when a hand waving frantically in front of his face startled him.

"Is aaanyone there? At all? Helloooo! Harry?"

The teen's hand shot out as he nearly jumped out of his chair. What was with him lately? Had he not been taught to observe his environment carefully? Had he not been taught to be able to read other people based off of their body language? Why was his so-called family messing with his mind so much?

He let hand, which he had pointed in his sister's face, drop down to his lap. Harry looked at Oriana questioningly.

"I was wondering if you wanted to go flying?"

Harry quickly looked around and was very disturbed to find that Lily was doing the dishes, and James, Ron, and Hayden were nowhere to be seen.

What on Earth was wrong with him?

"Harry! Flying?"

He flashed a quick glare at her, and then abruptly stood up and stormed out, his athletic frame making him look rather imposing.

Shock was the only expression that appeared on Oriana's face. "Wh-what did I do?" She asked herself.

* * *

Harry didn't slow down his aggressive walk until he was back in his room and the door had been slammed shut. Something was weird. Something felt off… 

He ran his hands across the bed to smooth the sheets, and plopped himself down on it and moved his body into the lotus position. Harry inhaled deeply, and as he exhaled, his eyelids slid halfway down. After a few more long breaths, his eyes were completely shut, and a very slight, almost unnoticeable, yellow glow surrounded him. His slightly-longer-that-chin-length hair floated away from his head just a touch and swayed only a little, as if he were underwater. Only seconds passed by while he was in this state, before his vivid emerald eyes snapped open in fear. His staff was in its shrunken state on the desk in his room. Harry reached a shaky hand towards it. The staff didn't turn to full size, and instead of flying to his hand as he had intended, it wobbled toward him half a meter and dropped. The shrunken staff rolled in a circular motion on the floor like a useless piece of wood.

Harry retracted his arm which was shaking worse than before. Why couldn't he reach all of his magic? And if something had affected even his magic, what else could it be doing to him?

* * *

And there you have it! Chapter six at last! I hope there aren't too many complaints about the contents of this chapter. I also hope that I don't take as long to get out chapter seven! Since my chapters are so short, I'm going to attempt to update more often. Y'all probably hope I don't take as long after leaving it like that! Please be nice and review! 


	7. Chapter 7

Invisibly Jaded

Chapter 7

Harry tried to calm himself down. Each time he inhaled and exhaled there was an audible rattling sound because of his uneven breathing. What was happening to him? His magic was...leaving!

He'd never heard of something like this happening before. Granted, the Elumvians he'd been living with had slightly different physiology, but still, magic was magic. It wouldn't just abandon him, would it?

His essential years of growth and moral and character development had been rather turbulent, with only school teachers and a few acquaintances from the island to rely on. Magic had really been the only constant thing in his life thus far. Without his exceptional magical prowess to depend on, what else was there?

"Harry James Potter! What on Earth are you—" Oriana had come bursting through the door. "Are…you all right?" There was no way she wouldn't have noticed the moistened brow and the washed-out complexion Harry was currently sporting.

"Um, yeah. I'm, um, yeah, fine, er…good. You?" Harry's eyes were wide and his breathing heavy.

"Harry, what—"

"FLYING!" Harry yelled as he shot off the bed and to his feet in an instant. "You said…fly! Go! Us, I mean. Flying!"

"What—" Oriana tried again.

"Yeah, flying. Sounds fun! Good idea." Harry interrupted again. He shooed her out of his room and ran a sweaty hand through his hair.

How long had this problem with his magic been going on? Was it going to get worse?

Having just committed himself to going flying as an off-hand excuse, Harry dejectedly left his room and made his way to the large back yard.

* * *

Who had decided that something normally used to clean up nasty stuff from the floor would be a good thing to fly on? Seriously. Did some person just randomly decide it would be a good idea to put some spells on a cleaning tool and straddle it? Why a broom, rather than something more practical for seating purposes, like a chair or a cushion? 

Harry warily eyed the shining broom his sister held out to him. Why exactly had he wanted to do this so badly as a kid?

"Harry, just take it already. It's not going to bite. I promise," Oriana said condescendingly.

The sound of male laughter sounded from above and Harry glanced up for a second, recognizing Hayden and his friend Ron. They had been practicing their throws and blocks with a quaffle since after dinner, but were apparently taking a break to watch Harry possibly make a complete fool of himself.

Harry snatched the broom from Oriana. He could do this. It didn't take much magic to operate the broom, and it wasn't like _all_ of his magic had gone. Even some squibs were capable of riding a broom. The teen straddled the broom, at first feeling slightly ridiculous. A second after that thought, he mentally scratched it out.

There was nothing to be nervous at all on a broom. He felt the slight hum magic as the spell work on the broom activated, and he lifted from the ground. Seating was surprisingly comfortable. Harry felt the muscles in his legs relax as they dangled above the ground. A crisp breeze tossed his hair around wildly and pulled at his clothes.

_This_ was why he'd loved to fly as a kid. He brought his legs up to grasp the handle behind him with his feet, stretched his upper body forward and moved his right hand to grip towards the front of the broom and his left hand to hold the broom beneath his chest. Poised for speed, Harry erupted from the hover and shot straight forward before beginning to angle up as he moved. Further and further he angled the broom until he was completely vertical. He kept going. Harry was upside down from his initial position, and was several hundred feet off the ground. Instead of completing the loop, the raven-haired athlete abruptly angled himself so that he was vertical again, only this time with his head facing the ground. He plummeted to the earth on his broom. His arm muscles were contracted as they strained against the pressure of the air he was moving through, trying to keep his body from flinging off the back end of the broom. The wind whipped at his eyes and Harry squinted at the ground he was drawing nearer and nearer to. With little time and space to spare, he pulled his arms forward and pushed his legs back to level the broom. Harry glided to a smooth stop in front of his sister. "That was a good warm-up," He commented off-handedly while stretching his arms. Whoever had said riding a broom wasn't a lot of work had obviously never been on one before.

Oriana eyed him speculatively.

The wind carried the words of a male voice to his ears, and he recognized it as the voice of Hayden's friend Ron. "I don't care what the hell you think is wrong that guy, Hayden. He just pulled of a genuine Wronski Feint his first time on a real broom. As long as he doesn't end up in Slytherin, he's good in my books. Oh, and as long as he joins the team instead of wasting all that talent…as long as he makes Gryffindor, I mean…yeah."

Harry's lips twitched upwards at the simple way he'd been accepted. Maybe he had someone else on his side after all. And maybe Hayden wasn't as universally adored as Harry had first thought.

The slight grin dropped off his face as words started tracing through his mind. Slytherin…Hogwarts…magic…

What the heck was he doing having fun when his magic was at stake? He needed to find out what was wrong with him lickety-split. Harry made to move back toward the house, but found his path intercepted by a brightly colored ball, which smacked into the grass at his feet and bounded away. Glancing at the nearest person, Oriana, he caught a mischievous twinkle in her eyes and a competitive smirk on her lips. She casually tossed a second quaffle up and down in her hand. One foot was propped up on the edge of a case of Quidditch supplies. "So you have _some_ flying skills," Oriana stated, "but can you catch?"

Harry was somewhat displeased that his senses had yet again failed him when he didn't even notice the first ball that had been thrown at him. He knew now that something had recently been done to him to affect a part of him. Perhaps the magic malfunction was a side-effect of it? Or had any of the few people he'd been in recent contact with purposely and discretely placed a block on him? If either of the options were true, when had it occurred, and how had he missed the spell or spells?

His red-headed sister whipped her arm forward and hurled the quaffle. Harry caught it with only a small effort. Perhaps some… 'testing' of his reflexes could be performed.

* * *

"NO! No no no no! Ron, quit catching it all the time!" Hayden laughingly yelled after his friend caught the fourteenth attempted shot in a row. 

"Sorry, mate. It's kind of my job."

"Time to switch, boys! I'm on defense now!"

Since four people was not nearly enough for a decent game of standard Quidditch, the teens had been playing with Ron Weasley as keeper, and alternated having two people as offensive chasers and one on defense. So far, Hayden and Oriana made up a decent pair, as did Harry and Oriana. Hayden and Harry on the other hand, would definitely be considered a complete failure as a team. Not only was Harry inexperienced at various flight patterns, but Oriana kicked butt at defending, and Hayden refused to pass to his brother at all. All-in-all, the Potter brothers had only scored a few goals each.

The twins glanced at each other—Harry in exasperation, Hayden in distrust. They positioned themselves equidistant from the goal posts and prepared for Ron to toss the ball out while Oriana waited several dozen feet below them. The ball was hurled in an upwards arc with all of Ron's might, and the race was on. By a split second, Harry was the first to snatch the quaffle out of the air, and head away from the goals Ron Weasley guarded. He reached a position three quarters of the field's length away from the goals and spun around, waiting a second for his brother to complete the maneuver as well. According to the rules of this four person game, the ball was now officially in play. Oriana was moving to a point where she thought she would best be able to capture the ball, ending her brothers' turn, and allowing her to be rotated back into offense.

Harry shot forward with the ball tightly gripped in one arm, and headed straight for his sister while tracking Hayden's progress with his peripheral vision. Oriana was determined not to be deterred by a move reminiscent of a foolish game of 'chicken,' so she did not stray from the straight path. Just as the two came close to ramming into each other, Harry dropped the ball and pulled up. Hayden was successful in catching onto the plan, and was home-free for the goal posts once he grabbed the ball out of the air. Miraculously, Ron's attention had momentarily faltered as he watched Harry do a strange twisting pattern in the air, and when Hayden's shot flew towards the left ring, Ron's fingers just barely brushed the edges of the ball.

"Yes! Goal!" Hayden screamed in celebration. Harry smiled at their success, but wondered privately if his brother even thought to give a bit of credit to him.

"Guys, Mum's going to _kill_ me if I don't get back home soon," Ron said as he began drifting back down to the ground.

The Potter children took note of the sinking sun that rested half above the distant horizon. None of them had really noticed how late it was getting.

Once on the ground, Weasley gave a sloppy salute in farewell. Hayden swung his broom over his shoulder and walked his friend back into the house. Harry looked at his sister. The connection they had was very new and not much like a brother-sister relationship yet. It was more like an experience one had when meeting a new person who you just automatically…clicked with. There was nothing romantic about it at all, of course. Harry gave a quick shudder at the mere though of such a thing with his sister. If things kept going as well as they had, Harry imagined that Oriana would be someone he could learn to trust and depend on in the future. For now though, he wasn't too sure about sharing any of his secrets with her. For all he knew, she had inside information on what was wonky with his magic and senses.

Harry had pondered over this problem a bit while the four teens flew around, and had decided that the first thing he needed to investigate was his own mind. Since he had been feeling that something was wrong, he strongly suspected that some outside influence was involved, and the most obvious place to mess with if you wanted to alter a person's personality and control was the mind. Back at the island, he had heard whispered mentionings of forbidden mind arts, but had never discovered much about them. The Elumvians were very strict on privacy, and the act of invading a being's mind was one of the biggest offenses one could do. Harry had never ventured to learn anymore about the topic of mind arts. If someone had messed with his mind and had damaged his ability to control his magic…then Merlin help them when he found out their identity.

Oriana offered to take the broom he'd borrowed back to the shed, and Harry went off to scour the small Potter library for books on the subject.

* * *

_Mind Arts._ See _Legilimency, Occlumency._

_Legilimency_. The art of reading emotions and extracting memories.

That was all the book said. Someone could have read his mind, according to this information, but what about altering it? A young student of magic could learn to levitate a small object, but as they progressed in age and talent, the student could levitate heavier things, hold them in the air longer, and may eventually be able to control the direction of the object without the need for summoning or banishing charms to be used separately. Could the definition of Legilimency be just the start of a complex art?

_Occlumency_. The art of defending the mind from external incursion and influence; mainly a defensive technique. See _Legilimency_.

This gave Harry more clues. The key word in this definition, he believed, was 'influence'. Influence was exactly what he suspected. Simply reading someone's mind could not influence a person. There was something to this that Harry felt he was missing, and many questions came to mind. Was this Occlumency something that you had to practice all the time, or would you only need to defend when attacked with Legilimency. If you didn't need to defend your mind all the time, then how could you tell when someone was reading your mind? Did the victim also see the memories that were being dug up, or was it so subtle that the mind reader would be the only one who knew?

Harry slammed the heavy volume of Magical Terms shut. A cloud of dust wafted out of the old book and made his eyes water. He slammed the book down on the table, and leapt away before he could be assaulted by dust particles again. He was angry. His magic and possibly his mind were failing him, and the best he could find was an old dictionary. The teen paced in front of the moderate sized bookshelf the tome had come from. The mind arts didn't seem to be as forbidden here, but neither did they seem to be eagerly studied. Harry stopped his pacing, and crossed his arms. He stared at the floor in frustration. He wondered if there was a public library near by where the information he was desperately searching for was readily available. From his position, the raven-haired young man closed his eyes and did a quick check on his magic again. The amount he could access was more diminished that before. A staffless (or wandless now, since he was expected to use the small stick instead of a long staff) spell to put the large dictionary back on the shelf failed only two seconds into it, leaving the yellowed pages open to the world when the book dropped to the floor unsupported by magic.

Harry knew that only a very small percentage of witches and wizards could perform magic without their wand. Harry was at a disadvantage to many of the magic users since he had been raised in a different world and was now being expected to jump into school. No one had elaborated on the type of spells taught at Hogwarts-- the school he was supposed to attend-- but he already knew that because he had chosen to be trained as a warrior at the islands, his spell repertoire had a lot more battle-type spells and less impractical spells like transfiguring animals into dinnerware. He had been very grateful that his staffless (or wandless) magic meant he was more powerful than the normal magical person, and, as past experience had proven, he could pick up spells a heck of a lot quicker. Now his magical advantage was lost. He could not depend as much on his senses honed from warrior training, so that advantage was being lost as well. It was almost like…

Harry inhaled quickly. His eyes were wide open, yet focusing on nothing. He was being made into an _average_ sixteen-year-old.

And the average sixteen-year-old still tended to be pretty dependent on adults.

* * *

Yeah, I'm back again. I know, I know. I'm horrible at this updating thing. But as you can see, this story hasn't been abandoned! That's a good thing, right? I'd like to thank all of the reviewers who have encouraged the continuation of this story, even though the going has been slow. It might be kind of obvious as to what may have happened with Harry's magic by now, but I'd be interested in any speculation. Please review! 


	8. Chapter 8

**Invisibly Jaded**

**Chapter 8**

_**Notice**_: This is just a repost of the chapter. For some reason, the chapter keeps showing up and dissapearing at random, and I have no clue why, so I'm hoping this will fix the problem.

* * *

Harry stepped out of the shower and shivered as wet skin met cool air and bare feet met cold tile. He had finally woken up on time and had completed his work-out (or as much of it as was possible in his room, at least) before anyone else had woken up, though someone would likely be up and about by now since he'd indulged himself under the stream of hot water in the shower. Quickly toweling off and throwing on some of his new clothes to get warmer as soon as possible, he began to think about his plans for the day. 

First, he needed to find out if there was a public library he could borrow books from. If so, he needed to figure out how to get there and back.

Stepping out into the hallway, the teen's nose was assaulted by the wonderful smells of cooking bacon, which made his mouth water and his stomach clench in hunger. Harry followed his nose to the kitchen to crispy, melt-in-your-mouth bacon, as prepared by one Lily Potter. Her red hair shone brightly in the morning light streaming through the kitchen window. The woman turned around when she heard footsteps, and smiled warmly at him. The problem now, was how to broach the subject.

The two stood there awkwardly for a moment. Lily picked up a plate from a stack on the counter and handed it to Harry. She gestured at the platters of food set up almost buffet style next to the plates. "Take whatever you'd like."

Harry did so, and sat down at the table, munching on a piece of bacon for a few moments. "Um, so this school I'm supposed to go to…" He trailed off, not sure where he was going to go with it.

"Oh! Yes, Albus did mention to us about your testing."

"What. Testing." Harry set his jaw as he stared at the woman, and held a piece of bacon in his currently unmoving hand.

"To…see…what—surely someone has mentioned this to you? I thought Albus was going to explain it to you after we had, uhh, made arrangements for you and your education?"

Harry stared at her blankly.

"He said he was going to take you aside…" Harry still stared at her impassively. "Well, Albus was going to talk some of the professors from Hogwarts into agreeing to go to the school and test you to see what year level you're at for various subjects. Since you haven't taken your OWLs…well…he couldn't just stick you into the sixth year just because of your age! That wouldn't be fair to you, if you haven't the proper education to be in those classes, and it wouldn't be fair to the other students who had to go through all that testing if we just let you skip it and take NEWT preparation classes! I_ know_ you told us you had been magically educated when we were meeting with Dumbledore, but we have no idea where you are at in regards to schooling standards. If you'd tell us wh--" She cut off at his cold stare and gazed upward for a moment in thought, tapping her chin as she did so. "Well, perhaps he was going to wait to get agreement from the other professors before telling you." She smiled at Harry cheerfully. "That makes sense, I guess!"

"So, when am I to do this…testing? And will I still have to take those…OWLs?" Harry was a bit leery of his birth mother. She seemed entirely too happy and comfortable talking to him. Plus, the whole issue of the Headmaster supposedly 'taking him aside' bothered him. _Had_ something happened, or was there merely a misunderstanding?

Harry was determined to learn the extent of mind arts.

"Any day now, I suppose." Lily finally replied. "As for the OWL testing, I believe you will have the opportunity to take them at the end of the summer if any of the teachers think you'll be capable of passing them." She didn't appear to have much confidence in his abilities. Before Harry had a chance to respond though, the woman suddenly looked over his head. "James!" Harry whirled around and saw the man walk through the door from the hallway. "Have you heard about Harry's testing date yet?"

James Potter sleepily waved a slip of parchment. "Here. Just came from a Hogwarts owl." He handed the note over to his wife. "Says next Tuesday. Three days from now."

"Is there a library?" Harry blurted out.

"A library?" James looked at the teen like Harry was insane. "Of course Hogwarts has a library! It's one of the lar—"

"I meant a public one."

"Oh."

"No, dear," Lily said. Harry cringed slightly at the term she applied to him. "Nearly everyone around here who needs a magic book just has to buy it. The only true libraries around here are at Hogwarts and at the Ministry of Magic, and neither is accessible on a daily basis to normal citizens."

That threw a wrench in his plan. He only had the few coins from his 'job' at the wand store, and he wasn't about to ask his parents for money to buy mind arts books—especially since he didn't know the extent of their involvement in the messing up of his mind and magic. Now that he had a reason to suspect a time period when the incident could have occurred—possibly by Albus Dumbledore, no less, supposedly the most powerful wizard in the world—he needed to be even more careful. Though Dumbledore was proclaimed some sort of reigning light wizard, Harry wasn't too shocked that the man could be involved. He got a weird vibe off the old guy.

In the mean time, Harry decided, he would just have to wait. Perhaps the Potter elders gave their children spending money, and he would have a chance to search through a book store. If not, then he supposed the school library would have to work whenever he got there. He didn't think it was likely anyone would give him time to stake out the library when he had to do testing, so to wait almost a month wasn't exactly the optimal option.

Lily began speaking again. "I do have most of my old school books stored up in the attic, if you'd like to look those over before you do your testing. I'll go get them right now!" The woman scampered out to wherever the attic was. The teen hadn't even known the house_ had_ an attic!

Harry was thankful she had misinterpreted his reasons for asking about the library. If they were in on this thing, there was no reason to make them double their efforts to keep him ignorant and suppressed. He looked over at his father, who was shoveling food into his mouth like there was no tomorrow. James caught the motion out of the corner of his eye and sort of smiled at his estranged son. It took considerable effort on Harry's part not to cringe at the chewed up food James displayed.

The sixteen-year-old finished his food in a timely manner, scooping the last bit of scrambled egg into his mouth as Lily re-entered the room with an armful of dusty school books.

"Here you go, s—Harry! Some of them are probably dreadfully out of date and haven't been used as text books for years, but I'm sure they'll suffice for now. After all, it isn't the end of the world if you have to take a few—or all—classes below sixth year level."

"Erm, thanks." Harry looked at the huge pile and decided he might as well look them over. It wasn't as if he had any other pressing matters that he could take care of at the moment. He picked up the stack and nodded at his birth parents as he left to go back to his room, scrunching up his face in an effort to control the sneeze he felt was coming on from disturbing all the dust.

* * *

He was doomed. Doomed for all of eternity. 

Harry stared at an open edition of a Herbology book with horror. The island he had grown up on, though still loosely connected to the muggle and wizarding worlds, was fairly tropical, and did not naturally support a large number of the plant life that was listed in the fifth year book. The Elumvians got on just fine with the variety they could easily grow on the islands, which was quite a lot. From what he had seen so far, he was well off when it came to tropical plants, but when it came to those from a colder climate, well… Harry looked down at the picture of some plant with exploding yellow berries. He had no idea how to even begin to pronounce the name of it.

With some trepidation, he reached for a book on magical creatures. A quick flick through the pages revealed that he knew a lot about several colorful birds and feline creatures, and the names of many others, but that was it. There was no way animals could be imported to the island. History had shown many times that when a new animal was introduced to a new environment, the lack of its natural predators led the creature to over breed tremendously, and take over a large part of their new environment.

Harry picked up the book, about ready to fling it at the wall in frustration, when a yellowed slip of parchment fell from the back of the book. Reading over it for a moment, he realized it was his mother's third year schedule. The raven-haired teen let out a huge sigh of relief when he saw that Care of Magical Creatures was listed as an elective course. He wouldn't have to take that class, thank goodness. The last thing he wanted was to look like an incompetent. The young man picked out all of the creature books and set them to the side, hoping he wouldn't be tested in this subject. Come to think of it, how were they going to know what subjects to test him in if they hadn't even asked what classes he wanted to take? Harry didn't even know all the classes offered! Had the Headmaster simply decided to test him in everything? Not Cool. Harry resolved to look over the creature books at a later time, just in case.

The next book he picked up was also listed on the schedule as an elective. It was listed as Ancient Runes, and to his shock, he recognized the tiny symbols that littered the pages perfectly. The Elumvians used these runes as both a written and spoken language almost as frequently as they used English. In addition, the runes were taught alongside spell theory to promote both a greater understanding of how the spells were developed and to encourage beings in the field of spell creation. They had better test him in this subject! A look through the available set of books showed nothing too difficult. The first one was, for him, comparable to an adult reading a 'see spot run' type of book.

The bedroom door burst open, and Harry flung his hand out, ready to cast a spell. He cursed himself for forgetting he was currently incapable of doing so a moment later. Then again, he thought, after realizing it was just his sister, things probably wouldn't have blown over so well if he had cursed Oriana. Fingernails bit into the palm of his hands as he mentally reamed out whoever had made his hard-trained and highly developed senses useless to him. He was getting so confused! He was mad at himself for almost cursing his sister, but then glad he couldn't have done so anyways, but then mad that he didn't have his staffless magic because even if he did have it, he wouldn't have made the mistake if he had his proper senses!

"Hi?" Oriana looked at his changing facial expressions in amusement, but was wondering what it was that was going through his head. "Mum says to come down for lunch. Dad says to quit being a nerd and get your nose out of the books."

Harry looked at her with a little bit of shock. Him? A nerd? How rude! How assuming! How—

Harry's stomach let out a loud grumble.

How the heck was he supposed to deal with his parents? How the heck was he supposed to deal with anything! Stupid rules… He still couldn't figure out why his parents had wanted him to live with them so much. It seemed sort of useless.

Harry calmly walked into the kitchen, saw the food spread out across a counter, and without a word or a glance to anyone, loaded up a plate and traipsed back to his room. He ignored the indignant complaints that his actions brought about.

With a plate on his lap and a fork in hand, he began skimming his way through the rest of the books his mother had owned. The way he figured, he was pretty much set for this inane defense class. Whatever they had, they could bring it, even with his mind and magic messed up. Transfiguration? Charms? Check. He didn't know a lot of the silly spells, but Harry figured those were mostly used for simple training exercises for the younger children. In the subject of Potions, there were many ingredients the teen was unfamiliar with, but even the best of potion makers couldn't memorize every component in the world. He knew plenty about interactions and magical properties and effects and all that, and the instructions for specific potions were kind of right in the book. Besides, with as many injuries as he'd incurred over the years of training, he was quite familiar with many healing potions. Harry figured that he might be about average in that subject, but he would wait and see how he faired before judging his abilities in potions for witches and wizards.

Without even realizing it, the raven-haired young man read right through dinner since no one had come to get him, and had fallen asleep in full clothing, books scattered all over his bed.

* * *

"NO!" 

"Take it!"

"No! That's disgusting!" Harry sneered at the twisted and filthy shoe James Potter was holding out to him. The past few days he had been left relatively undisturbed. Hayden had taken to spending loads of time at friends' houses, and Oriana had come up to remind Harry of when it was time to eat several times. He'd spent most of the daylight hours working through the school books to refresh his memory of things he may have long forgotten about, or had never had need to learn on the island. His parents had mostly left him alone as well. Something strange was certainly going on with them. They seemed to be busy at the oddest hours.

"It's just a portkey!" James sighed in exasperation.

"Yes, I know. I've experienced a few before." He shot a dark look at the older man, reminding him of how he'd unwillingly ended up in the Potter residence.

"Then what on Earth is your problem!"

"Um, I believe I just said that it is _disgusting_." Harry crossed his arms over his chest and looked haughtily at his father. James tried to push the shoe against Harry, but he just backed away from it. "You can make almost anything into a portkey! A milk carton! A bottle cap! Pillows, clothing, books, candles, whatever! So why is it that we are supposed to take some mucky, rancid-smelling shoe!" He took another step back. "Are you _trying_ to give me weird diseases?"

James rolled his eyes. "Look, this is just what Dumbledore made into the portkey, ok? Now take this unless you want to be stuck with the first years for all your classes. We're late for your testing as it is!"

Harry heard a snort from behind him. "Aww, is my own bwover scaaawed of the mean ol' shoe?"

Harry whipped around to glare at Hayden, who was sitting on the kitchen table. "No, I—" Something abruptly pressed into his side and he felt the uncomfortable sensation associated with portkeys.

Death. Death to whoever made his extraordinary senses disappear. Or maybe he'd just settle for pain. And torture.

Harry Potter didn't try to fight the magic of the transportation this time (not that he was currently capable of doing so) and landed steadily on his feet. He smirked when he saw James sway a bit. Ahh, sweet subtle revenge.

Looking around, he discovered a small crowd of eccentric elderly people.

Albus Dumbledore was immediately recognizable. "You!" He used his whole arm to point at the man. "You're the one who made—" Harry waved in the general direction of the shoe that James was still clinging to, "that thing into a portkey?" The old man simply smiled benevolently, his eyes twinkling like mad.

Creepy.

"You're a lunatic. If I contract some freaky disease from that and die, I'm coming back to haunt you."

"Harry!"

"What?" He glanced at the speaker—his father—and saw a shocked look on his face. Looking at the others present, several of them sported affronted looks as well.

"Hmmmm, yes. A threat I've heard many times in my life." Dumbledore continued to smile after his statement. "Well, it appears you have arrived before a few of the staff, and we've yet to set up testing areas, so while we wait—Madame Pomfrey, if you would." He gestured towards a woman, who promptly stepped away from the group and latched on to the teen's upper arm to drag him away.

They walked in silence for a few minutes. "Uhh, why are we leaving?" He looked down at the woman dressed in clothing typically associated with medial personnel. "My…I was told I was late already."

"The Headmaster knew I would have to do this. We have to update your obscenely out-of-date medical records before allowing you to enter this school with other children." She said sharply. "We can't have _you_ be the one giving people, what was it you said? Ah, 'freaky diseases'."

"I see."

"Merlin knows where you've been and who you've been in contact with all these years. But it's no matter if you won't tell anyone." They had reached the medical wing of the school. She pushed Harry in the direction of a bed before snapping on a pair of translucent gloves. "I'll just have to do every test in the book." A large cabinet of gleaming tools and potions vials was opened.

Harry looked on a touch nervously. "Eh, this 'book' is pretty small, right?"

The woman raised an eyebrow at him and pulled a few syringes out. "I'll need some blood samples."

* * *

Harry downed his seventh potion, squinting his eyes at the extremely sour taste. Impatiently, he asked, "Am I done _now_?" He rubbed his elbow, positive it was going to bruise from having blood taken. 

The matron, who was studying a chart intently, glanced up at him with a confused expression on her face. "Well, yes, with all of the immunizations and testing for physical disease, but—" She waved her wand at him, doing a spell Harry knew she'd performed on him several times already. Each time he'd felt a strange pulling sensation, as if something inside of his body was trying to escape.

The infirmary door opened up to Albus Dumbledore. "Have you finished, Madam?" He inquired kindly.

"Yes, but I was just explaining these readings." She looked at them again, completely baffled. "His magic levels are normal for his age, but I don't understand what this other line means!" The woman pointed frantically at one of the charts that were the written results of her spells.

The Headmaster pulled the parchment from her hands and studied it for a few seconds. "Ah, nothing to worry about there. You know teenagers; they always have something going on with them. I'm sure it's just a fluke as a result of a bout of accidental magic or something perfectly normal like that. Come along, my boy. It's time to see what you know!" He gestured at the door for Harry to proceed ahead of him.

Harry looked over the flowing purple robes that Dumbledore wore, and made the same sweeping gesture. "Ladies first."

* * *

Hello! So that's chapter eight for ya. 

A few people have asked about Harry's powers, so I'll just reassure a few of you and say right now that yes, they will be coming back. : ) Don't worry!

Please review!


	9. Chapter 9

This story has been taken up by LightningHunter. You can search for it yourself or just go straight to my profile and click on the link directly to the story or the new author's profile.

I sincerely apologize to all of you who have been waiting so long for me to get my butt into gear to finish writing this. Hopefully, many of you will be supportive of LightningHunter's continuation, as unfortunately, I have seen several stories before that have been taken up by other authors, and the original readers see fit to only nag and nag on how the style is different and whatnot, when the new author is doing a perfectly good job.

Other Details:

As a few of you may have noted a while ago, I posted information on my profile saying that I had edited this story to some degree, but had never posted it, and I also had a partial chapter nine (I thought it was a lot shorter, but apparently I got up to four thousand words into it). So with this new posting of "Invisibly Jaded" you should eventually get my partial chapter nine as well as my own edits (minor for the most part, but some larger re-written sections up in chapters five and six, I believe) as well as LightningHunter's own significant additions and corrections.

I have passed on what notes I had left (many of them were lost or thrown away), so, depending on how LightningHunter deems to put it in, my ideas for how the backstory went (a vague outline of what happened in the wizarding world while Harry was away) as well as a little bit into the future of the story (yes, this does include what was up with Harry's randomly disappearing powers) should show up in the continuation.

Enjoy!


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